Some String, a Sleeper, a Summit, and Smoke
The weather's had a bit to say about what happened in the last week.
On Tuesday I started a fairly major bit of antenna timkering which involved moving the box with the co-ax relay for switching antennas in it from the side of the house up to the mast with the hexbeam on it. The object of the exercise was to get the long-wire antenna I use for the lower HF bands away from the house and the incoming phone line, but A decided she wasn't keen on parts of my solution. I've come up with something a little less conspicuous which is a little more acceptable to her, but it was also a bit more complicated than my original solution, and is taking longer to complete, so at the moment that antenna's not usable. It involved me pressing another tree at the back of the garden into antenna support duty, a process which involved a long pole, quite a bit of string, even more rope, and a bit of luck. I've made progress, but there's a way to go yet.
Consequently, the antenna bing out of action, I caught the Thursday morning GB2CW morse practice via the WebSDR at Hack Green. That went much better than average, but was still short of perfection by one word, the last in the 12 words-per-minute passage.
As Thursday started out wet, and the rain kept falling until early afternoon, not much got done outside until the late afternoon. Sometimes a quiet day is necessary, and there are worse things than a weather-enforced quiet day.
On Friday we finally placed the ninth sleeper in a tier of beds I've been building between the two main levels in the garden. That leaves, probably, only two more to do. We're slowly taming the slopes in this garden.
On Saturday we enjoyed the most adventurous outing we've had since the lockdown started. Across the Severn, visible from our kitchen window, is May Hill, something of a landmark for miles around on account of the curious grove of trees that mark its summit. We see it pretty much every day unless the weather's obscuring the view, and we've driven past it once or twice, but never visited it. At nearby Blaiston A had booked a day's charcoal making, but didn't fancy driving there by herself, and as May Hill is a SOTA summit I suggested I could drive her here and then spend the day playing radio on the summit while she played with smoke and fire.
We got ourselves out of the house only about half an hour later than I'd wanted, and weren't too late getting to Blaiston. From there I headed to May Hill, walked up from the car park to the summit, found a spot just clear of the main paths, and set myself up to try talking to the world. As summit activations go, I've definitely had worse, but it had its fair share of close shaves.
With the batteries flat, I packed up the radio, but still had over an hour to spare before A needed collecting, so I hunted down a couple of geocaches, the first in over three years, and then headed back for the woods via a round-about route that took me through Ruardean Hill, another SOTA summit in the area. The space available is a bit more limited there, so when I try activating it I'll have to plan accordingly. Even with the detour I ended up waiting a while at the gate for A. When she emerged from the woods she looked a little soot-bespeckled, but had clearly enjoyed the day.
Today started a little slowly, but has involved a bit of garden work.
On Tuesday I started a fairly major bit of antenna timkering which involved moving the box with the co-ax relay for switching antennas in it from the side of the house up to the mast with the hexbeam on it. The object of the exercise was to get the long-wire antenna I use for the lower HF bands away from the house and the incoming phone line, but A decided she wasn't keen on parts of my solution. I've come up with something a little less conspicuous which is a little more acceptable to her, but it was also a bit more complicated than my original solution, and is taking longer to complete, so at the moment that antenna's not usable. It involved me pressing another tree at the back of the garden into antenna support duty, a process which involved a long pole, quite a bit of string, even more rope, and a bit of luck. I've made progress, but there's a way to go yet.
Consequently, the antenna bing out of action, I caught the Thursday morning GB2CW morse practice via the WebSDR at Hack Green. That went much better than average, but was still short of perfection by one word, the last in the 12 words-per-minute passage.
As Thursday started out wet, and the rain kept falling until early afternoon, not much got done outside until the late afternoon. Sometimes a quiet day is necessary, and there are worse things than a weather-enforced quiet day.
On Friday we finally placed the ninth sleeper in a tier of beds I've been building between the two main levels in the garden. That leaves, probably, only two more to do. We're slowly taming the slopes in this garden.
On Saturday we enjoyed the most adventurous outing we've had since the lockdown started. Across the Severn, visible from our kitchen window, is May Hill, something of a landmark for miles around on account of the curious grove of trees that mark its summit. We see it pretty much every day unless the weather's obscuring the view, and we've driven past it once or twice, but never visited it. At nearby Blaiston A had booked a day's charcoal making, but didn't fancy driving there by herself, and as May Hill is a SOTA summit I suggested I could drive her here and then spend the day playing radio on the summit while she played with smoke and fire.
We got ourselves out of the house only about half an hour later than I'd wanted, and weren't too late getting to Blaiston. From there I headed to May Hill, walked up from the car park to the summit, found a spot just clear of the main paths, and set myself up to try talking to the world. As summit activations go, I've definitely had worse, but it had its fair share of close shaves.
- I left my U/VHF FM handy on charge at home, so couldn't call the local folk.
- I forgot to pack any pens. Luckily there was a sharp pencil in the bag from whenever way back, along with a spare log book.
- I’d forgotten how touchy my small light-weight morse key can be if it isn’t firmly magnetically latched to something. That made my morse even shakier than usual.
- I forgot sunscreen There was a pair of thin gloves in my activation bag, so I wore them to avoid getting sunburned hands. However that didn’t help my morse much either, and also rendered my mobile’s touch-screen problematic.
- I clearly need to exercise (or replace) my batteries, as they ran flat after only a couple of hours (and 14 contacts). I scratched a 15th and final contact (my only S2S of the day) by cranking the power down and hoping.
With the batteries flat, I packed up the radio, but still had over an hour to spare before A needed collecting, so I hunted down a couple of geocaches, the first in over three years, and then headed back for the woods via a round-about route that took me through Ruardean Hill, another SOTA summit in the area. The space available is a bit more limited there, so when I try activating it I'll have to plan accordingly. Even with the detour I ended up waiting a while at the gate for A. When she emerged from the woods she looked a little soot-bespeckled, but had clearly enjoyed the day.
Today started a little slowly, but has involved a bit of garden work.