Chowdercon's pivot point: a fashionably late lunch at Geno's, where chowdah and lobstah rolls rock!

“Chowdercon, Chowdercon,
Please let me know wha-at bands you’re on.”
–With apologies to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice

The short take for yesterday’s Chowdercon 2011?

Good eats, great companions, 26 contacts for the log with a nice mix of US and DX stations, some chats with passers-by, including conversations with kids who tapped the Morse-code key, and one more park for Parks on the Air.

Oh yes, and a poor guy who, at the end of the day, wrapped up an otherwise relaxing hour of kite-flying with the loss of a $150 kite.

The calendar may not agree, but Sept. 17, 2011, definitely was an early-Fall day.

At 5:50 a.m. I aimed the car toward I-495 and the trip to Portsmouth, N.H, Chowdercon’s perennial home. The air was a crisp 40 degrees F., and a waning-gibbous moon, with Jupiter as a companion, lit the path leading from the front door to the driveway. Along the drive, whisps of ground fog hung over river wetlands, occasionally attempting a tentative reach across a lane or two of the interstate as the car rolled north.

By 8:00, four of us had gathered at the Golden Egg restaurant in Portsmouth, the initial meeting point, for an industrial-strength breakfast, some conversation, then on to Four Tree Island.

The island is part of Portsmouth’s Prescott Park. The park consists of five waterfront parcels Portsmouth has maintained  over the years thanks to money from a trust fund that two sisters, both schoolteachers, left to the city. That was back in the days when photos of sepia-toned faces, necks shrouded in lace, stared through oval openings in little folding frames. On this day, we hams invaded Four Tree with a vengeance.

A phalanx of fairies

But first, we had to battle our way through the fairies (now, now, be nice!).

Chowdercon weekend coincides with Portsmouth’s annual Fairly Houses Tour, a two-day festival/fundraiser during which people build and set in their front yards small houses that fairies might occupy, inspired by the fairies in novels for young people written by Portsmouth author Tracy Kane. Families walk the route with tykes in tow. Outfits range from summer shorts and T-shirts (with an “Aw, do I have to wear this?” pair of fairy wings pinned to the back of the shirt) to full fairy-princess regalia.

And it ain’t just the kids. Hulking adult males who guide traffic into municipal parking lots near Four Tree also get into the act.

You can gauge their level of enthusiasm by the ornateness of their outfits. One attendant directs cars while decked out in denim shorts, work boots, a T-shirt,  a pair of wings, and a funky head band that forms a kind of purple equator separating a hair-free northern hemisphere from the rest of his head. Not many smiles on this guy’s face. Others must be grandfathers — those hoary family members who live a full life, love their grandkids, and have nothing to lose by getting down and goofy.

The one good thing about having a 200-pound fairy for a parking attendant, however, is plenty of parking: Poof! Here’s a space!

I’ve been set up!

I staked out a picnic shelter near Four Tree’s flagpole, one of those nautical jobs with a yard arm just right for supporting one end of a newly minted half-wave, end-fed antenna I wanted to try. The other support? My can’t-miss-it-orange, 31-foot Jackite pole, listing slightly to port (in this view).

The antenna wire's hard to see, but trust me, it's there. The picnic bench, ordinarily my favorite support for the pole, was chained in place. So I set the pole over an 18-inch aluminum spike I pounded part-way into the ground. Then I used bungee cords to hold the pole up against a cross beam at the end of the roof. The gent on the left is preparing for a BBQ for a bazillion, including fairy-bedecked two-year-olds.

I use 50-pound-test fishing line to secure the ends of my portable wire antennas — one end in this case. If you need any more evidence that I’m not Jason Verlander (besides having a different name), it took at least 15 to 20 attempts to toss the carabiner-weighted end of the line over that fershliggener yard arm. Persistence, salted with a few choice words, won the prize.

By the time 11 a.m. rolled around,  the Chowdercon/QRP Afield types were ready to tickle the ionosphere.

Here is a partial rogue’s gallery.

Carl Achin, WA1ZCQ, keys his Icom 703 for some QRP Afield contacts. Carl is the mastermind behind Chowdercon, now in its sixth year.

Howard Mintz, WA1CFX, operates with a Yaesu FT-817. One good way to rack up points durig QRP Afield is to make sure you have contacts with all the other stations crammed onto this tiny island. Just be sure to turn the RF gain w-a-a-y down. Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

Bud Valcourt, Jr., NY1Z, make the final connections to his Elecraft K1.

Chuck Ludinsky, K1CL, working with his Elecraft KX1. With all that salt water around, he's got the best ground plane on the planet. Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

Len Long, W1ZTL, works single sideband during QRP Afield, giving voice to the Chowdercon minions. Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

John Forrest, Jr., WB1HBE, takes a turn at Bud's operating position. Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

Bob Schmeichel, N1RXV, takes time out from taking a boat load of photos to spend some time on the air. Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

Bill Richardson, NG1P, puts in a good word for stations on Four Tree Island on spotting pages.

"CQ AF W1PNS/1" -- using the two-handed approach to hold the portable paddle/keyer combo in place while sending. Add a pedal-power generator to keep the battery topped off, and ham radio can be a whole-body experience! Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

In addition, Bill Richardson, NG1P, arrived with family in tow to enjoy they day, brining the total to 12 hams and family members.

From my log, 26 contacts, including Iceland, Sweden, Denmark, Britain, and in the states, Arizona, Washington, Illinois, Florida, Tennessee, Utah, Maine (thanks, Arn!), Texas (thanks, Dave), Iowa (thanks, TJ), Missouri (thanks, Larry), and, of course, at least two stations on FTI in NH!  As for the one that got away? A KL7 whose signal succombed to QRM and QSB before I could get the rest of the call and find out if he/she truly was in Alaska! A 229 at best but it was worth several tries, even if we didn’t connect.

Band conditions were great on 15 and 20 meters, where even the short hop from Maine was blasting in. On 40 meters, not so much. I suspect that is due in part to the not-so-hot match between my antenna and radio on that band. My experiment with the end-fed, half-wave antenna, cut for 40 meters, suggests I still have some work to do for 40.

As for the kite?

Its owner spent an enjoyable (yes, he told me so) hour or so flying it off the island’s flag-pole point. As I was striking my antenna at day’s end, I heard a commotion behind me, turned to face the pole, and the kite was pressed hard against it, pinned by the wind.

I initially thought the kite might have gotten tangled in the antenna as I was taking it down. But no, the owner allowed that he started to haul the kite in but forgot to check the location of the flag pole behind him.

Lots of color, and frustration, for the kite's owner after he allowed the flag pole to snag it. Several valiant attempts at freeing the kite failed. Photo courtesy of N1RXV.

The owner was nothing if not gutsy. He shimmied up the flag pole — twice — to rescue his $150 kite. To no avail. All he could do was leave in frustration as he released the line to watch the kite slowly plummet into the Piscataqua River.

By 6 p.m. six of us chowder hounds remained to work our way to Warren’s Lobster House, just across the river in Kittery, Maine. It was a great way to wind down from the day and get to know some of the people better. Len and Bob? Both heavily into cyber-security work. Bud? Retired. Howard? A Newton, MA, police captain. Plus Carl and me.

Of the original 12, only six remained to enjoy the close-out meal at Warren's Lobster House. Ayuh! From left to right, Bud, Pete, Len, Bob, Carl, and Howard. Photo courtesy of N1RXV's camera and Carly, our waitress.

I’m already planning for next year!

Last year, while some of us toodled off to lunch, others held down the fort during QRP Afield on Four Tree Island

Ok, ham-radio fun devils, here comes another chance to dust off the portable radio and take it to the streets, in an RF sort of way. It’s the New England QRP Club’s QRP Afield event, which runs this weekend from 1500 UTC Sept. 17 to 0300 UTC Sept. 18. And you don’t have to operate QRP to take part!

For a quick run-down of the rules, I’ve unashamedly cribbed from the NEQRP Club’s web site. Saves you an extra mouse click. Any typos here are mine!

Exchange:

NE-QRP members: RST, State/province/country, NE-QRP Number
Non members: RST, State/province/country, Power
———————————————————————-

Bands and Modes:

160M, 80M, 40M, 20M, 15M, 10M.
Any mode (CW, SSB, AM, PSK, etc.); all count the same.
Only one contact per station per mode per band.

Standard QRP frequencies are recommended within each band (or generally accepted frequencies for those modes for which there are no specific QRP frequencies). But, please, let’s spread out a little — not everyone within a kilohertz of 14.060.
———————————————————————-

Scoring:

Power/Location Multiplier:

• 1 point per contact if you are QRO (above 5 watts) and operating from a permanent location.
• 2 points per contact if you are QRO and operating from a field or mobile location.
• 5 points per contact if you are QRP (5 watts or less) and operating from a permanent location.
• 10 points per contact if you are QRP and operating from a field or mobile location.

All contacts must be made from a single power/location category (i.e., the category is to remain the same once selected).

Final score will be the total number of contacts multiplied by the power/location category multiplied by the SPC multiplier (see below).
———————————————————————-

Multipliers:

Each S/P/C worked counts for one multiplier point and can be counted only ONCE PER BAND.
———————————————————————-

Submission of Results:

Email your scoresheet with a copy of the contest log and (please) any comments/photos concerning your setup, location, experiences, etc., no later than 20 October, to: K1CL@arrl.net

or mail your entry to:

Chuck Ludinsky, K1CL
6 Pracing Rd
Chelmsford MA 01824-1922

For printable summary sheet, click here.
———————————————————————-

Multi-Club Stations:

Will not be permitted. That is, simultaneous operation of multiple transmitters (on the same or different bands) under a single call sign is not permitted. However, multi-operators per club call is fine, with one transmitter in operation at a time.

I’ll be out with members of the NEQRP club at Four Tree Island at Portsmouth, N.H., as W1PNS/1. Join us in the field and on the air, if not at the island!

Ah, a bowl of chowder, Four Tree Island, and thou, oh CW paddle!*

It’s b-a-a-ck! Chowdercon 2011 is 11 days away, and I can smell the ocean now. It sure beats musty socks!

To recap: Chowdercon is a breakfast-to-dinner affair with a heaping helping of QRP operating in between. This year, the date is Sept. 17. The event coincides with QRP Afield, a 12-hour operating event organized by the New England QRP Club. That’s where the operating comes in.

Chowdercon is about as sure a sign that fall is around the corner up here in New England as just about anything this side of migrating geese. You can pick up one ham’s recap of last year’s event here. This year promises to be even better. Why? Who knows? But it’s hard to beat the combination of friends and acquaintances, some fresh-air operating, and great eats.

And after last year’s sartorial surprise (one club member showed up in a kilt, aye, but nae pipes), you never quite know what you’re going to see.

The gig starts with breakfast at  8 a.m. EDT at the Golden Egg restaurant in Portsmouth. From there, folks meander to Four Tree Island in the Piscataqua River to set up and begin operating about 11, when QRP Afield starts, then break for lunch at Geno’s Chowder & Sandwich Shop, a short walk from the island.

And just where is that island? (in case you want to skip breakfast)?

View Larger Map

Four Tree Island, a municipal park, shuts down around 5 p.m., so folks typically pack up and head for the Kittery, Maine, side of the river for dinner at Warren’s Lobster House. For additional details, you can get in touch with Carl Achin, WA1ZCQ.

It’s a great way to spend a late-summer Saturday. And who knows? With all these smart phones proliferating, it should be easy to call up QRPSPOTS.com (no relation to Pete Spotts), and see who’s operating Summits and Parks on the Air that weekend. Snag some QRP Afield points and some SOTA points at the same time!

Sweet!

* Photo courtesy of PDPhoto.org.

The NEQRP Club's NEScaf audio filter, packaged for the road.

Traveling light with my FT-817ND or my KX1 is great fun. Both have nice, tight IF filters for use with stations sending Morse code. But I’ve learned through operations at home that the New England QPR Club’s NEScaf audio filter can bring out the best in those filters, and visa versa.

So off I sent for another kit — and an Altoids tin to house it — for portable operations. What, another chick magnet?? (See this post, paragraph 13-ish, for an explanation.)

If you’re familiar with the NEScaf filter you’ll notice that one control knob is missing. If you’re not familiar with these, I’ll give you a hint: One control knob is missing.

I’ve found that I rarely, nay, never change the center frequency, which is what the missing control does. At the same time, I’d read accounts from others who tried to pack the as-kitted filter into an Altoids tin. Once all the knobs and switches were installed, you needed truly thin fingers to operate the filter. Discouraged, these folks would remount the electronics in a large box.

I figured that since I didn’t use the center-frequency control, why not replace it with a fixed-value resistor and give my fingers (size XL glove) some extra knob-twirling room? A quick email exchange with Bruce Beford, N1RX, who knows these babies inside and out, revealed that I could replace the control with a 4.7k-ohm fixed resistor and be done with it.

A caveat: Bruce mentioned, as devil’s advocate, that the filter has a variable center frequency so that if someone is using a simple receiver (or simple receive portion of a simple transceiver) with no offset tuning, RIT, or clarifier (pick your synonym), you can still apply the filter to a station that may be slightly off of your receive frequency. Instead of tweaking a knob on the radio, you tweak the filter’s center frequency.

Both of my portable radios, a Yaesu FT-817ND and an Elecraft KX1, have offset tuning, so I ditched the control. The finished product looks like this under the hood — not radically different than other installations.

No mints here, just lots of parts soldered to a circuit board.

I adjusted the gain for no gain and peaked the response on the now-fixed center frequency, and it was off to the pile-ups. I gave it the smoke test, it passed. So I fired it up and it worked the first time.

I’m beginning to think you can’t have too many of these filters. Hmmm. Time for NEScafs Anonymous?

How long will this 7.2 amp-hour battery really last?? Try the updated version of this battery-capacity estimator.

The “open sourced” battery-capacity estimator, a.k.a Stone Soup, has just received another tweak to improve its accuracy, thanks to Moe Riggins, AB8XA, Terry Fletcher, WA0ITP, and “an interested user of the spreadsheet,” whoever he or she may be. You can download the update here:

Battery-capacity_estimator_for_portable_ops

Many thanks to these contributors, who have taken the concept much farther than my newbie’s understanding of batteries allowed me to take it!

A pad and pen, a key and radio, and thou. My set-up for July 31's Flight of the Bumble Bees at King Street Memorial Playground in Franklin, MA.

Ah, the window has closed on Flight of the Bumble Bees 2011 — one of the most anticipated outdoor operating events for low-power enthusiasts during the year. Thanks for the contacts, folks!

For me, it was a low-intensity event. I set up at King Street Memorial Playground in Franklin, MA. It’s about two miles from home. A nice change after various excursions across the state to activate state parks for Parks on the Air.

I picked the site in large part because, aside from proximity to a shower, the park hosts trees with sufficient spacing that I could set up my Norcal doublet, instead of operating with a wire vertical antenna. Or so I thought.

I tend to seek out picnic tables to support my collapsible mast. Ordinarily, I’ll plop my gear on any table out in the open if I’m going vertical. But this time, the table had to be roughly centered between two trees I’d scoped out as end supports for the doublet.

Scanning up and down the park, I was the lone Homo sapien. Which meant t’wern’t no way I was going to single-handedly move one of the adult tables 30 or 40 feet to the spot I had chosen.

What ho! There is a child’s picnic table, which I can manhandle!

I hauled it into position and began setting up my antenna, holding it to the usual spots on a picnic table with my usual bungee cords. With the mast raised, one leg went to the northernmost tree, the other to the southern most. Leg one went up. Then I heaved  a second carabiner, which weighs down the support line, over the second tree. As the carabiner dropped toward the ground on the far side of the tree, I jogged over to finish the installation, eagerly anticipating the use of a “real” antenna for a contest/operating event.

As I approached, the carabiner — slowly at first — began to rise up the backside of the tree. I sped up to catch it, only to turn and watch the final two or three feet of the center pole’s indelicate fall to the ground. It had been felled by what I thought an inconsequential gust of wind, nay, breeze.

Question: If a ham shouts %$##@**! in the park and no one is around to hear it, did he really shout it?

In the end, this little snafu — which put me on the air about 30 minutes after the Flight of the Bumble Bees began — was a good thing. For two weeks I’d been spending hours at four state parks — typically out in the sun — operating and chatting with passers-by. The felled pole forced me to revert to Antenna Plan B, the vertical, which I could erect against a picnic table — adult this time — under a shelter. I merely had to slide part of the table out from under the shelter to give my 31-foot Jackite pole clear space to rise into.

Shade. It can be highly underrated. But not on a day with plenty of sun and temperatures in the upper 80s F.

When the contest ended three and a half hours later, I had amassed the princely sum of 22 QSOs (one a dupe), so make that 21 — 15 with other Bumble Bees (I was BB 7), and six with QRPers taking part but not sporting a number.

Collapsing antenna supports notwithstanding, a good time was had by one. Many thanks to Larry Makoski, W2LJ, for serving as event coordinator (or whatever the title is) and to the stations with which I swapped FBB info.

BB next year!

Yeah, it’s catching. And as I was lurking on the Yahoo site for SOTA buffs in North America, I came across a conversation that dwelt, in part, about software development in support of the program. In that post was a reference and link to an Android app, NextSota, written by German SOTA enthusiast Mario Fletz, DC7CCC.

 Boy, it is slick! It takes from your smart phone the GPS coordinates of your current position,    applies a radius you designate, and through a browser on your phone gives you the SOTA summits  – from hills to mountaintops — within that radius. The chart includes information such as height  above sea level, the number of activation/chase points the summit is worth, and how many  activations have taken place. Oh yes, and it connects you with Google Maps for a location and for driving directions to get there.

Care to try a summit never before activated? This will point you there in a heartbeat.

What a great little tool for planning SOTA outings! You can download it here.

Heads up: Much of the text within the app ist auf Deutsch. But between the icons and the English-German cognates, you’ll have little or no trouble taking advantage of the program.

This may be taking coals to Newcastle for many SOTA enthusiasts. But I gotta say, for a newbie, the app looks like it will be very helpful!

A partial look at a breathtaking new circuit!

I just couldn’t resist! You’ll have to view the latest in hi-tech hamdom here. The image was too big to fit it all on this blog page. I doff my cap to Adrian Rees, MW1LCR, for posting this on the GQRP email list.

A bit too comfy? Perhaps. But I'll be danged if I'm going to sit on a rock for three hours. I don't care if it is Mt. Greylock!

The final week of a two-week vacation was winding down, but Parks on the Air was still on my mind.

I’d activated the Blue Hills State Reservation and Halibut Point State Park — both for the first time, both coastal, or near-coastal, sites — as “field trips” during my final week vacationing at “Camp Idohwanna.” Now it was time head into western Massachusetts and complete the pilgrimage from sea level to the highest peak in the state.

It was time to bring Mt. Greylock State Reservation into the POTA fold from atop its most prominent feature and namesake.

I’d reconnoitered Mt. Greylock’s summit using Google Earth and maps.  But nothing beats talking to someone who’s been there — a lot. Enter Frandy Johnson, N1FJ, who had dropped me an invitation to hobnob sometime with a small group of hams in western Massachusetts who call themselves the SOTA Jerks. They activate area hills and mountains for Summits on the Air pretty regularly

Frandy had seen my tome on activating Skinner State Park near Holyoke, MA, and sent along the invitation. I figured he was the one to answer a crucial question: Did Greylock’s very civilized summit — with a parking lot, trails, an observation tower that doubles as a memorial to US military veterans (not another observation tower!), a broadcast  tower, and the very hospitable Bascom Lodge — have picnic tables?

Yep, picnic tables. They provide wonderful support for my Jackite pole, aided by a couple of bungee cords. The pole is my antenna support.

Frandy allowed as how he didn’t recall seeing any picnic tables. Then he sent me some pictures of the summit from a previous SOTA activation. The gong went off in my head: Why not invite him to come along?

The deal was done, with a rendezvous set for between 8:00 and 8:30 a.m. July 30.

And that is where I first met the digital nag.

Her voice (sorry, ladies, it was a female voice with a slight British accent) came out of a little box with a screen that Frandy brought along — the ever trusty, no, check that, sometimes trusty GPS for the navigationally challenged.

It served us well along much of the way to the mountain, until we hit the parking lot from Hades.

At a very confusing intersection outside an oddly located shopping plaza, Her Highness told us to turn right. She didn’t say which right. So, yours truly guessed. Wrong.

“Recalculating,” intoned the voice.

While the Satellite Queen was recalculating, I was working my way back through the parking lot to the entrance, where I could take the right right, which, from this new direction, would be a left. This one I could figure out for myself!

I’m afraid I confused the poor voice.

“Left, left, left, recalculating, left,” it hastily repeated as I drove. I could swear she was getting exasperated.

With each additional “left” she offered, I was reminded of the anthem Billy Preston composed lo these many years ago in anticipation of all lost souls with confused GPS systems:

Finally, we made it out of the lot and reached the summit of Mt. Greylock by about 10:00 a.m. If you read this, have mercy on this timeline, Frandy. It gets more fuzzy as time passes.

As we scoped out the summit for places we could set up our gear, we heard what we dubbed the K bird — a tiny thing perched near the top of a young evergreen perhaps 20 or 30 feet away.

Why K bird? Its call sounded something like this: Da-a-a-ah (pause) dah-di-dah, dah-di-dah, dah-di-dah. At about 18 words per minute, give or take.

Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway) the weather was perfect.The vistas alone were worth the trip. Looking out from a spot 3,491 feet above sea level does something to broaden one’s horizon.

Looking north just below the summit of Mt. Greylock. This clearing has been used as a launch site by folks who enjoy hang-gliding. As we looked out over the valley below, Frandy allowed how one day he'd seen a hang-glider pilot spend quite a long time setting up his gear. Then he launched himself from the summit. "He never came back," Frandy said. Hmmm...I wonder why? As they say in "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," the knack of flying is to throw yourself at the ground, and miss.

The view was quite decent from ground level. I wonder what it was like for these guys.

Members of the Western Massachusetts Repeater Association install new antennas for their repeater at Mt. Greylock's summit.

The summit may have been short on picnic tables, but I found a nice young evergreen who eagerly agreed to help out a ham in need. I bungeed my Jackite pole to its trunk, set up my gear, and fired up the radio. My now-familiar set-up — wire vertical, FT-817ND, battery, plus a few accessories. And this time (queue Monty Python theme): The Comfy Chair!!!

My comfy operating spot during set-up.

Frandy went a little more rustic on his side of the mountain as he chalked up SOTA contacts. And yes, oh SOTA Meisters, we hiked down 100 feet in elevation from the summit with our gear, then back-tracked to make it legal.

Known to his SOTA buddies as SOTA Pop, Frandy Johnson taps out a CQ while operating from Mt. Greylock.

This was the weekend for the annual Islands on the Air contest, which provided some of the QSOs for the log. Many thanks to the hams who contacted me over the three hours Frandy and I operated. Among them:

FP/K9OT — Saint Pierre and Miquelon — 20 meters (Two islands just south of Newfoundland that still belong to France. Wait, didn’t Major General Wolfe settle all that??)

N0ZH — Missouri — 20 meters

KK1W — Massachusetts — 20 meters (thanks for spotting me on QRPSPOTS.com, Jim!)

N4EX — North Carolina — 20 metere (Rich became a regular on my outings this vacation)

W0GAF — Minnesota — 20 meters

NS7G — Oregon — 20 meters (a father and son from Needham, MA, stopped by my spot for a chat and said they know you, Phil)

N8M — Michgan — 20 meters

OV1CDX — Denmark — 20 meters (Sjaelland Island, the second of two IOTA contacts)

About 2:00 p.m., Frandy and I packed up and headed down the mountain for a burger and beverage. By about 5:00, I was heading east on the Massachusetts Turnpike, a.k.a. I-90, bound for Franklin.

Many thanks to Frandy — known to his fellow SOTA Jerks as SOTA Pop —  for taking a flier on a mini-expedition with a never-met-before companion.

'Let's see, is this the dah paddle or the dit paddle?' I offered to serve as control operator and let the damselfly have a go at a QSO, but it politely declined in favor of taking a tour of a new portable paddle I was breaking in.

I was born and raised in southern California, where folks justifiably bragged about being able to hit the beaches in the morning and the mountains in the afternoon. Of course, they meant afternoon of the next day, given LA’s traffic. But I that’s another story.

Folks here in the Bay State can come close to making the same statement, with some adjustments for traffic. Today’s QRPxpedition to activate Halibut Point State Park for the first time for Parks on the Air (POTA) highlights the briney end of that beach-to-mountain itinerary.

The oceanfront park, just north of Rockport, Mass., occupies a site that once served as a granite quarry, the quarry pit now a deep pond in the center of the 54-acre reserve. The park is joined at the hip to another 17 acres of state reservation. Wandering through the small Visitors Center prior to setting up my station, I was intrigued to learn that the point’s original name was Haul About Point — a moniker sailors pinned on the granite prominence in the heyday of sail. How it got from Haul About to Halibut? A “name that homonym” contest, maybe?

For World War 2 buffs, the site hosts a fire-control tower that was used to support coastal artillery.

The park's Visitors Center made good use of the artillery fire-control tower used during World War 2. The tower not only affords great views of the park. The New Hampshire coastline to the north is easy to track on a clear day.

I arrived at the park at about 11:00 a.m. with the nagging feeling that the coffee I drank on the way was demanding freedom.

Just my luck. The two, small, gender-specific restrooms in the Visitors Center had been commandeered by an untold — but from my desperate vantage point, significant —  fraction of 55 elderly women who had traveled from the Boston suburb of Newton on a chartered bus to take in the park.

What’s a guy to do but stand, chivalrously, legs tightly squeezed, until the last woman leaves the room marked Men? “Why, thank you, young man.” That’s how you know they are elderly — when they tag as  ”young” a man into his third 20-year tour and sporting a silver (or so my wife says) beard.

Relief, then station set-up, came at last: The increasingly familiar orange Jackite pole for antenna, if not moral, support. The FT-817ND, tuner, key, keyer, and paddles (yep, I switch back and forth between straight key and paddles).

I know I’m hardly the first to observe this, but each outing seems to add a bit of refinement to one’s operations.

A couple of for-instances:

For instance 1: I’m a big fan of the FT-817ND. But as it sits on a table as delivered, gets peg legs to lift the front (slightly), or rests on a riser made from a discarded CD case, its display is still tough to see.

So I said to myself: “Self,” says I, “Why not set it on top of the battery case you put together for the 7.2 amp-hour battery that powers this get-away special?”

“But it slides around up there,” I replied. (Note: The sign of senility is not when you talk to yourself; it’s when you talk to yourself and reply.)

“Well, how about using some nylon straps?” came the reply. A quick trip to the hardware store netted a pair of eight-foot straps, which I installed around the battery-radio stack, then trimmed to manageable lengths. And, so, we have this:

QRP stackers

For instance 2: I recently picked up a new set of mini paddles to go with my “mint” keyer. The damselfly at the top of the page is sitting on the new paddles. Now, the paddles have a slick feature — a base into which the paddles slide. Mount that base onto the Altoids-tin keyer, and you get this:

N0SA's TIP-1 mini paddle with its base mounted on my portable-station electronic keyer.

Which becomes this:

The TIP-1 mounted on the keyer -- and at a better height for working the paddles. Part of the inspiration for this came from a photo I'd seen of a Rock Mite QRP rig, built and modified by Bob Leach, AF2Q, with what looked like an American Morse Equipment Porta Paddle affixed to the top.

The paddles are now at a better height for my hands, the keyer buttons are right at hand, and the paddle can be removed and stowed separately — and carefully — when it comes time to stuff the station back into my lumbar pack. Works for me.

As for the contacts? Five, count ‘em, five, in three hours and 10 minutes. The bands were awful. With the same set-up, I had bagged six contacts in the first hour of operation at the Blue Hills State Reservation on Monday, and with time to spare for chats with visitors. Today, one could run up and down the bands and hear virtually no one.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing, if you have all day. I didn’t. My wife needed the car by time certain.  I had to factor the two-plus-hour drive home into my operating plans. Thank heavens for K4ZLE, who answered my CQ just as I was about to pack up for the day. He was contact No. 5, the final one needed to qualify the park for POTA.

For the record, the hale and hearty few who answered the calls today include:

N4EX — North Carolina — 20 meters (Rich is another POTA ham)

K0ZK — Maine — 20 meters

W4MPS — North Carolina — 20 meters (We exchanged howdies when I was on Mt. Holyoke last week)

N4DSP — North Carolina — 20 meters (a fellow user of Xlog, logging software for Linux)

K4ZLE — Ohio — 20 meters (who capped the day as a success)

Yeah, there’s definitely a Midwest/North Carolina thing going on here. Now, where’s my barbecue??

CORRECTION: In the original post, I misidentified the bug in the top photo. I have been informed that the attractive bug is a damselfly. My apologies to both dragonflies and damselflies in the hope that neither was insulted. And thanks to KD5ONS for pointing out the difference.