Ed Nisley's Blog: Shop notes, electronics, firmware, machinery, 3D printing, laser cuttery, and curiosities. Contents: 100% human thinking, 0% AI slop.
The critter eats them from the inside out, then tosses the shredded skins.
Since she started leaving her offerings, the chipmunk has been leaving the good cherry tomatoes in her garden untouched. We’re both astonished at how many tomatoes fit inside one chipmunk…
The sewing machine motor runs from 120 V AC or DC, drawing a few amps with the rotor locked, so a hulking 300 V 10 A bridge rectifier (Motorola MDA962-4, if you’re keeping score) seems grossly overrated. On the other paw, I have one, so why not?
The mounting holes pass 6-32 machine screws, but the recesses in the top seem meant for fillister head screws that I don’t have. Fortunately, I do have a lathe:
MDA962-4 rectifier – screw head adjustment
And then they just drop into place:
MDA962-4 Bridge Rectifier – installed
You can see why recessing the screw head below the top of the rectifier is a Good Thing.
The Dell GX270 system board mounts on a tray, latching into small tabs, with a single screw locking it in place. The tray then slides into the metal EMI shield / case, latching onto more tabs, with a spring-loaded pair of tabs snapping into a slot under the green latch:
Optiplex GX270 – system board tray
All that is well and good for a mass-production PC system board, but poses a problem for mounting anything else: there’s no room for screw heads below the tray, adhesives really don’t bond to slightly flexible aluminum sheets, and I definitely can’t do large-scale precision metal bending.
So a cheat seems in order. The general idea is to support a 6 mm polycarbonate sheet on clips that slide under the small tabs along the front, support the sheet on the rear tabs, and secure it with the screw. That’s thick enough to allow tapping holes for mounting screws, so everything else can mount to the sheet.
The sheet fits around the power supply on the right, protrudes over the rear of the tray to the back of the case (with a recess around the green latch), and clears the hinge assembly on the left. There are no dimensions, as it’s all done by eye with the Joggy Thing.
AC Chassis Shaping
A drive bay EMI plug from a long-discarded PC provided some nice springy steel strips that slide neatly under those tray tabs:
Drive EMI shield
That actually took a bit of trial-and-error:
AC Chassis mounting brackets – practice makes perfect
My first attempts used slightly thicker steel that didn’t fit nearly as well, plus I wasn’t quite sure how wide they should be.
As with nearly all plastic doodads around here, the white plastic mounting clips / brackets come from the M2:
Chassis Clips
The two brackets in the middle of the solid model slide around the tabs at the rear corners of the tray and capture the bent-over top section below the polycarbonate sheet.
The strip in the rear goes around the screws holding the heatsink to the sheet; more on that later.
The PLA brackets get themselves glued to the sheet with IPS #4 solvent adhesive, a hellish mixture of chlorinated hydrocarbons that attacks most plastics with gleeful enthusiasm. I positioned the brackets on the tray, slobbered adhesive on their tops, slapped the polycarbonate sheet in place, and applied clamps:
AC Chassis – gluing bracket blocks
The final bonds weren’t as uniform as I’d like, but they seem rugged enough. The lip along the rear of the tray was slightly higher on the left edge, which may have interfered with the clamping pressure; it’s obviously not a controlled dimension.
The tapped holes in the sheet accommodate screws for various bits & pieces.
The original Kenmore Model 158 sewing machine used a two-wire line cord:
Kenmore 158 – terminal block
In light of my modifications, grounding the frame seems prudent. The heap produced a long IEC extension cord with screw-mounting ears on the socket end that fit neatly into the GX270’s rear panel area occupied by two PCI cover plates, so a bit of Quality Shop Time seemed in order.
The GX270’s carcass yielded a complex bit of sheet metal that held the hard drive and a few other odds & ends, with some clean right-angle bends in exactly the right places:
Dell drive bracket – intact
Some bandsaw work removed the gimcrackery:
Dell drive bracket – first bandsaw pass
More bandsawing produced a rough outline:
Dell drive bracket – second bandsaw pass
Sawing to length, removing the small flanges, and squaring the sides:
Dell drive bracket – squaring edges
I traced the existing PCI cover tabs, bandsawed the outlines, and filed to suit:
Dell drive bracket – basic outline
They look a bit ragged, but fit well enough:
Dell drive bracket – trial fit – interior
From the outside, it looks like it grew there:
Dell drive bracket – trial fit – exterior
The divider between the PCI slots succumbed to tin snips and a bit of filing. The tabs climbing over the bottom edge come from the internal EMI shield covering the entire back surface.
A bit of coordinate drilling and manual milling produced the IEC socket outline
Dell drive bracket – drilling and milling
Which looks pretty good from the inside:
Dell drive bracket – IEC socket – interior
And great from the outside, if I do say so myself:
Dell drive bracket – IEC socket – exterior
Match-drilling a #6 clearance hole below the hole in the clamp arm, then ramming a self-tapping case screw into it, provides a convenient grounding point for the sewing machine cord:
IEC Socket Mount – ground screw
The chassis lid has two matching holes for those screw heads, which would ordinarily hold the two PCI cards in place. I could remove the clamp arm, but it doesn’t get in the way of anything.
Obviously, I don’t have enough adapters: I need one with N male to UHF male.
I actually spent money to get from the reverse-polarity SMA connector on the Wouxun radios directly to UHF female, matching the cable to the antenna mount in one step.
Sometimes an unsteady ziggurat of adapters isn’t appropriate.
Under ordinary circumstances, a fuseholder mounts in a square-ish panel cutout, but there’s no convenient panel to be found in the repurposed GX270 case. So now there’s a holder for the fuseholder stuck to the side of the power supply inside the case:
Fuseholder – installed
The square tube covers the entire fuseholder, with the quick-connect tabs protruding from the back, to provide enough surface area for the double-stick foam tape.
Looking down into the solid model, you can see the reduced width near the back end:
Fuseholder Holder
The black fuseholder contains a 5 A fast blow fuse, which should be entirely adequate for normal operation. In the event that a wire breaks loose and contacts the metal shell surrounding the whole chassis, it will pop instantly. That won’t disable the power supply, but it will remove line voltage from the entire motor controller chassis.
Remember that the source power line goes to the center QC tab, thus burying the always-hot contact deep in the fuseholder.
The OpenSCAD source code:
// Fuseholder mount
// Ed Nisley - KE4ZNU - August 2014
//- Extrusion parameters must match reality!
ThreadThick = 0.20;
ThreadWidth = 0.40;
HoleWindage = 0.2; // extra clearance
Protrusion = 0.1; // make holes end cleanly
AlignPinOD = 1.70; // assembly alignment pins: filament dia
function IntegerMultiple(Size,Unit) = Unit * ceil(Size / Unit);
//----------------------
// Dimensions
Shell = [25.0,25]; // outside = bezel size + some stiffening
Mount = [17.3,15.7,21.0]; // mount section = slight compression in X
Base = [13.5,15.7,17.0]; // clearance over crimped contact
OAL = Mount[2] + Base[2];
//----------------------
// Useful routines
module PolyCyl(Dia,Height,ForceSides=0) { // based on nophead's polyholes
Sides = (ForceSides != 0) ? ForceSides : (ceil(Dia) + 2);
FixDia = Dia / cos(180/Sides);
cylinder(r=(FixDia + HoleWindage)/2,
h=Height,
$fn=Sides);
}
module ShowPegGrid(Space = 10.0,Size = 1.0) {
RangeX = floor(100 / Space);
RangeY = floor(125 / Space);
for (x=[-RangeX:RangeX])
for (y=[-RangeY:RangeY])
translate([x*Space,y*Space,Size/2])
%cube(Size,center=true);
}
//----------------------
// Build it
ShowPegGrid();
difference() {
translate([0,0,OAL/2])
cube([Shell[0],Shell[1],OAL],center=true);
translate([0,0,Base[2] + Mount[2]/2])
cube(Mount + [0,0,2*Protrusion],center=true);
translate([0,0,Base[2]/2])
cube(Base + [0,0,2*Protrusion],center=true);
}
The retina-burn white reflective tag under the black hand strap is actually a foreshortened view of the Arkel logo.
They’re longer and taller than the old packs, which isn’t entirely a Good Thing: the inside bag gently kisses the pavement during steeply banked high speed turns. The main compartment is slightly narrower, so I bent the license plates (which used to fit neatly on the bottom) to form a hard floor with a low lip on the inside edge. That, in combination with tightening the pack’s internal strap, prevents the foam-core bottom panel from drooping; maybe the edge won’t hit the pavement quite so often.
They also ride much higher on the racks. To install the packs, I had to unbolt the seat to raise it upward, slide the packs underneath, twiddle the clamps onto the rack rods, then reinstall the seat. Those puppies are not getting loose without tools and a struggle!
I’m not entirely happy with that arrangement, as the holder sits snug against the rear packs. So far, I rarely need those in addition to the RT-40s, as each underseat bag can swallow an upright gallon milk jug or two Butternut squashes in addition to all the other stuff I normally carry.
The array of reflective patches and piping and pull tabs probably makes me look (more) like a low-flying UFO at night, but that’s fine with me: the more it resembles a UFO, the less hassle I get.