Ed Nisley's Blog: Shop notes, electronics, firmware, machinery, 3D printing, laser cuttery, and curiosities. Contents: 100% human thinking, 0% AI slop.
The display on Mary’s Cateye Astrale cyclocomputer (remember cyclocomputers?) faded to gray, which meant a new CR2032 lithium cell was in order. I grabbed one from the heap, popped out the old cell, inserted the new cell, and … the display stayed blank.
Quick like a bunny, I reinserted the old cell to save the odometer (15524 miles) and wheel circumference (1475 mm) data; the display returned to dim gray.
The “new” cell, which came from an unopened pack, read 0.45 V with no load…
The cell didn’t have a date code, but the package sports a cryptic MU that might encode the date of manufacture or the date of packaging or the copyright date or something; the various search results aren’t forthcoming and the Energizer site gives no explanation.
I’m pretty sure I haven’t owned that package for more than a few years and it’s been in a shirtsleeve environment (plus the occasional hot van) ever since.
Another Energizer cell from a more recent lot, bearing CA on the package and YA on the cell, worked fine.
Being that sort of bear, I wrote the date and mileage on the previous cell (a Newsun, whoever they are, with a 3Y code), because the last time around the odometer value didn’t survive the cell change. The current total works out to 277 miles/month = 3300 miles/year, including winter downtime, which is fine with us; we mostly ride the bikes around town on errands and take the occasional tour.
Clamp a cutoff chunk of 3/16 =0.1875 inch diameter brass tubing in the lathe and file down one side to put the flat 0.150 inch from the far side, so that the knob is a tight slip fit. If you happen to have some solid rod, that would work just as well. In this case, the file pushed the paper-thin brass remnant into the tubing and I didn’t bother to clean it out:
KG-UV3D knob with fixture
Clean the white glop off the knob, jam the knob on the fixture, clamp the fixture in the Sherline’s vise, use laser targeting to center the spindle on the notch adjacent to the minuscule pip on the knob:
Laser aligning to knob feature
Drill a 2 mm recess that en passant obliterates the pip:
Drilling index recess
Fill it with some light gray paint that just happens to be on the shelf:
Knob with filled index mark
And, by gosh, it really does dress up the radio! [grin]
Wouxun KG-UV3D with improved knob
While I had the Sherline set up, I did the knob for the other radio, too.
Both of the GPS+voice interfaces for the Wouxun KG-UV3D radios have been working fine for a while, so I should show the whole installation in all its gory detail.
If you haven’t been following the story, the Big Idea boils down to an amateur radio HT wearing a backpack that replaces its battery, combines the audio output of a Byonics TinyTrak3+ GPS encoder with our voice audio for transmission, and routes received audio to an earbud. Setting the radios to the APRS standard frequency (144.39 MHz) routes our GPS position points to the global packet databaseand, with 100 Hz tone squelch, we can use the radios as tactical intercoms without listening to all much of the data traffic.
The local APRS network wizards approved our use of voice on the data channel, seeing as how we’re transmitting brief voice messages using low power through bad antennas from generally terrible locations. This wouldn’t work well in a dense urban environment with more APRS traffic; you’d need one of the newfangled radios that can switch frequencies for packet and voice transmissions.
So, with that in mind, making it work required a lot of parts…
The flat 5 A·h Li-ion battery pack on the rack provides power for the radio; it’s intended for a DVD player and has a 9 V output that’s a trifle hot for the Wouxun radios. Some Genuine Velcro self-adhesive strips hold the packs to the racks and have survived surprisingly well.
Just out of the picture to the left of the battery pack sits a Byonics GPS2 receiver puck atop a fender washer glued to the rack, with a black serial cable passing across the rack and down to the radio bag.
A dual-band mobile antenna screws into the homebrew mount attached to the upper seat rail with another circumferential clamp. It’s on the left side of the rail, just barely out of the way of our helmets, and, yes, the radiating section of the antenna sits too close to our heads. The overly long coax cable has its excess coiled and strapped to the front of the rack; I pretend that’s an inductor to choke RF off the shield braid. The cable terminates in a PL-259 UHF plug, with an adapter to the radio’s reverse-polarity SMA socket.
The push-to-talk button on the left handgrip isn’t quite visible in the picture. That cable runs down the handlebar, along the upper frame tube, under the seat, and emerges just in front of the radio bag, where it terminates in a 3.5 mm audio plug.
The white USB cable from the helmet carries the boom mic and earbud audio over the top of the seat, knots around the top frame bar, and continues down to the radio. USB cables aren’t intended for this service and fail every few years, but they’re cheap and work well enough. The USB connector separates easily, which prevents us from being firmly secured to a dropped bike during a crash. I’d like much more supple cables, a trait that’s simply not in the USB cable repertoire. This is not a digital USB connection: I’m just using a cheap & readily available cable.
I long ago lost track of the number of Quality Shop Time hours devoted to all this, which may be the whole point…
In other news, the 3D-printed fairing mounts, blinky light mounts, and helmet mirror mounts continue to work fine; I’m absurdly proud of the mirrors. Mary likes her colorful homebrew seat cover that replaced a worn-out black OEM cover for a minute fraction of the price.
The volume / on-off control knob on our Wouxun KG-UV3D radios has the most minute raised dot you can imagine to mark its orientation. Yes, it’s another subtle black-on-black control! See if you can spot the dot:
Wouxun KG-UV3D – volume knob marking
The radio lives in a small pack attached to the back of the seat frame: we turn it with a fingertip and adjust the volume by touch; the dot is just barely perceptible to my finger. Nevertheless, WIBNI (Would It Be Nice If) you could look at the knob from a distance and determine whether the radio was turned on?
A dab of typewriter (remember typewriters?) correction fluid later:
Wouxun KG-UV3D – garish knob marking
Not elegant and sure to wear off after a while, but the smudge should remain visible forever.
The paving along Rt 376 just south of Raymond Avenue developed transverse ridges; evidently the old concrete roadway below the more recent asphalt cap is shifting. Bumps in the travel lane are not to be tolerated, so they milled off all the ridges. Problem solved!
Of course, the remaining asphalt isn’t thick enough to withstand any stress and promptly crumbles:
NYS DOT joint milling quality
Although the shoulder may appear to be wide enough for bicycle traffic, the debris strewn along it makes for a perilous journey: the larger chunks are bigger than my fist. Several of the milled joints along the unimproved section of Raymond and that stretch of 376 are disintegrating, so it’s not like they got just this one wrong.
Doesn’t bother the DOT one little bit, because their idea of a “shared use facility” is a sign with a picture of a bicycle, labeled Share The Road. As long as the travel lane seems mostly passable by automobiles, their job is done.
Our Larval Engineer acquired a free bicycle to get around at school: a Rollfast “girl’s bike” dating back to 1972 with 105 miles on the odometer. She completely dismantled it, cleaned everything, reassembled it in reverse order, and added a rear rack & panniers. Having touched every part of the bike, she’s now in a much better position to fix whatever may go wrong in the future.
It was an inexpensive bike to start with and we left everything as-is, with the exception of the brake pads. You’re supposed to bend the brake arms to align the pads with the rims, a technique which I didn’t like even back in the day. So we swapped the OEM pads with worn-but-serviceable Aztek pads sporting spherical washers:
They’re way grippier than the old pads, even on those chromed-steel rims. I had a bike with steel rims and old pads; given the slightest hint of water, it didn’t stop for squat. With any luck, the Azteks will at least slow this one down.
Although she wanted to take the Tour Easy, the bike must live outside under the apartment stairs all year and, frankly, that’d kill the recumbent in short order. Forgive me for being a domineering parent; when she has a good place to store a spendy bike, it’s hers for the taking.
We haven’t figured out how to mount the GPS/APRS tracker + radio and antenna. The evidence suggests she prefers to travel incognito from now on…
I designed the GPS+Audio case around the TinyTrak3+ board in my radio, which has two square, blue-plastic trimpots. The case worked fine for that board. Then I printed the case for the next bike and that TT3+ didn’t slide neatly into place:
TinyTrak3+ trimpot overhang
Turns out that one of the three TT3+ boards uses plastic trimpots and the other two have metal trimpots bent to fit the existing holes (so they’re not a drop-in replacement), with a very slight overhang beyond the edge of the PCB.
So I attacked the case with some riffler files and carved a notch above the PCB slot. No pictures of that, lest you think I’m a butcher of lovely 3D printed objects. Next time: build the notch into the case’s solid model.
Most likely, this is the only instance of those pots causing anyone a problem…
The Smell of Molten Projects in the Morning 