Ed Nisley's Blog: Shop notes, electronics, firmware, machinery, 3D printing, laser cuttery, and curiosities. Contents: 100% human thinking, 0% AI slop.
Tag: Improvements
Making the world a better place, one piece at a time
Some years ago, a friend convinced me I needed an Inova X1 LED flashlight. He was right; I’ve carried one in my belt pack ever since and, in fact, added a couple of X5s to the household armory.
Perforce, this is an old X1 with a coated glass lens to make the best of the LED. Newer X1s don’t have (or, likely) need the lens, as LED technology has made great strides in the last few years.
I couldn’t bear the thought of that lens rattling around in my belt pack, chewed upon by the assortment of other crap in there. So I made a lens protector: a length of heatshrink tubing with a polypropylene window. You might want to do the same for your flashlight to keep from grinding up the optical surfaces on its shiny end.
This tubing has an internal thermoplastic glue, but ordinary tubing would likely work as well. Position the tubing over the end of the flashlight with a few millimeters sticking out. Cut a circle from the clamshell case around some piece of consumer electronics, drop it on top of the lens, and shrink the tubing around the flashlight: watch it wrap right over the end and hold the circle in place. A dot or three of urethane glue may help for glue-less tubing.
It’s transparent enough for most purposes, but when you really need more light or a tighter beam, pull it off. That’s aided by dabbing a trace of oil on the X1, which you can get directly from the (outside) of your nose. Yeah, gross, but it’s a renewable natural resource…
Having had both of our commercial antenna mounts fail, I decided to make something that could survive a direct hit. It turns out that the new mounts are utterly rigid, which means the next failure point will be either the antenna mast or its base structure. We’ve occasionally dropped the bikes and when the antenna hits something on the way down, the mount is not the thing that bends…
Incidentally, the Nashbar 5-LED blinky white light aimed rearward seems to push motorists over another few feet to the left. Nobody quite knows what we are from a distance, but they do notice that something is up ahead. That’s just about as good as it gets; we tend to not ride in the wee hours of the morning when bike lights just give drunks an aiming point.
Rough-cut stock
The overall structure is a 2-inch square aluminum extrusion, with a hole in the top that matches the right-angle SO-239 base connector salvaged from the Diamond mount and a 1/2″ nylon stiffener plate in the middle. A pair of relentlessly square circumferential clamps attach it firmly to the top seatback rail. A coaxial cable pigtail ensures that the antenna base makes good electrical contact with the seat. I’m not convinced the bike makes a good counterpoise, so we’re now using dual-band antennas that are half-wave on VHF.
Stainless-steel hardware holds everything together, as I’m sick and tired of rust.
Drilling box beam
Not having a huge drill, I helix-milled the SO-239 hole, then reached down through the box to drill the hole for the plastic block retainer screw. Flip the box in the vise, drill four holes for the clamps (I love manual CNC for that sort of thing), manually deburr the holes, and it’s done.
The block of plastic is a tight slip fit inside the box extrusion, with slightly rounded corners to suit. I milled the slot across the top to a slip fit around the SO-239 connector.
The two clamps were the most intricate part of the project and got the most benefit from CNC.
Helix-milling the seat-bar clamp
The clamp hole must have exactly the same diameter as the seat top tube. I helix-milled the hole to an ordinary 5/8″; I have trouble drilling holes that large precisely in the right spot with the proper final diameter. Milling takes longer, but the results are much better.
Helix-mill the other block while you have the position set up, then flip and reclamp to drill the pair of holes that match the box extrusion. Drill 10-32 clearance (#9) all the way through.
Flycutting the Clamp Slit
Bandsaw the blocks in half, paying some attention to getting the cut exactly along the midline, then flycut the cut edge to make it nice & shiny & even. That should result in 1 or 2 mm of slit between the blocks when they’re clamped around the seat rail.
Finished seat-bar clamps
Break those relentlessly sharp edges & corners with a file.
I finagled the dimensions so a 1-1/2″ socket-head cap screw would have just enough reach to fill a nut, with washers under the screw and nut. Your mileage may vary; I’ve gotten reasonably good at cutting screws to length.
Normally, you tap one side of each clamp for the screws, but in this situation I didn’t see much point in doing that: the box must attach firmly to the clamps and I was going to need some nuts in there anyway.
Finished parts
With all those parts in hand, assembly is straightforward. Secure the SO-239 with its own thin nut, screw the plastic block in place, hold the clamps around the seat bar, poke the cap screws through, dab some Loctite on the threads, install nuts, and tighten everything. That all goes much easier with four hands!
The grounding braid fits into a huge solderless connector that must have been made with this application in mind. It originally fit a 1/2″ lug, but with enough meat that I could gingerly file it out to 5/8″ to fit the SO-239 inside the aluminum extrusion. I’ve had those connectors for years without knowing what they were for!
I eventually came up with a simpler and even more ruthlessly rugged mount that’ll appear in my column in the Autumn 2009 Digital Machinist. More on that later… [Update:There]
Our daughter has been helping a friend learn to ride a bike (at age 15: it’s never too late!) and we’ve been rehabilitating a new-to-her bike in the process. It’s an inexpensive Ross bike, perfect for the task at hand, and is providing a good introduction to machine-shop work.
The fact that it’s much older than she is makes not a whit of difference. Nay, verily, I rode a bike pretty much like this one for hundreds & hundreds of miles back in the day. I got better ones when I could afford them and she will, too; maybe we’ll tempt her into a recumbent bike some day…
Anyhow, the seat tended to spin around even with the clamp cranked dangerously tight. Taking a look down the tube showed that they used welded-seam tubing (it really was an inexpensive bike) and didn’t bother to clean up the internal seam. As a result, the chromed steel seat post rested on maybe three small patches of metal that didn’t provide much friction at all.
I wrapped a neodymium magnet in a rag and stuffed it down the tube to catch the filings, then applied a coarse cylindrical file (a rat-tail would work as well) to the seam. When it was nearly flush, I switched to a finer file to smooth it and the other high spots. The picture shows the improved seam, ready for the seat post. Ugly, but rough is actually a Good Thing in this situation.
Seat Clamp Swaging
The seat tube has a nominal 1-inch OD, so I clamped a random round from the heap in the vise, tapped the clamp around it, and massaged it lightly with a hammer to persuade it into a more cylindrical shape. It’s still not perfect, but at least the bolt lugs engage the seat tube around the slit somewhat better.
With all that in hand, the seat post is now perfectly secure.
On her first “I can ride!” parking-lot outing, she experimentally determined that a bicycle wheel’s lowest-energy state resembles the edge of a potato chip. Fortunately, it was the front wheel and, after a bit more shop derring-do than one might wish, we swapped in another wheel that’s been hanging on the garage wall for a decade, ready for just such an occasion.
Remember how independent your first bike made you feel? It’s working that way for those two, just like it did for us. Life is full of bumps and they’ll get hurt every now and then, but there’s no other way to get through it; they’re just about ready to ride over the horizon.
Happy Independence Day for those of us in the USA!
As I mentioned there, I originally connected my bicycle-mobile amateur radio gadget to the ICOM IC-Z1A radio using separate mic and speaker plugs. That seemed like a good idea, but bicycles vibrate a lot and the plugs apply enough leverage to the jacks inside the radio to pry them right off the PCB. That requires a protracted repair session that I never wanted to do again.
The solution is to mount both plugs rigidly on the radio so that they simply can’t move. I dithered for a while and finally decided that function trumps good looks on this project, particularly given that our radios spend their entire lives inside a bag behind the bike seats.
The top picture shows the small aluminum plates I made to align the plugs to the HT jacks, along with a plastic gluing fixture to hold the plugs parallel while the epoxy cures. If you just jam the plugs into the radio without an alignment fixture, you will glue the plugs together in such a way that they cannot be removed: the radio does not hold the shafts exactly parallel!
Plug stabilization – What Not To Do
How do I know? Well, I tried doing exactly that by simply epoxying the existing plugs into place, applying enough epoxy putty to stabilize the plugs against the radio. Looks reasonable, but when it came time to take them out (and you will want to take them out, trust me) they are firmly and permanently embedded. I had to carve them apart to get them out.
The mic, speaker, and coaxial power jacks are 10 mm on center. The 2.5 mm mic plug has a small shoulder that required a matching recess in the plate, while the 3.5 mm speaker plug is basically a cylinder. I don’t use the coaxial power jack, having hacked an alkaline battery pack with Anderson Powerpoles. The plate’s external contour matches the flat area atop the radio around the jacks.
You could lay out and drill close-enough holes by hand, use a step drill to make the shoulder recess, and then let the epoxy do the final alignment. However, you want the center-to-center distance exactly spot-on correct, as the plugs won’t mate properly otherwise. I turned it into a CNC project for my Sherline mill, of course, but that’s just because I have one.
HT Plugs in gluing fixture
This picture shows two plugs epoxied into the plate. While the epoxy cures, the plate rests atop the fixture with the two plugs vertical and their shell flanges flush against it. I applied the epoxy with a toothpick and worked it into the gap between the threads and the plate.
The end result will be a pair of plugs that exactly match the radio’s jacks in a plate that sits firmly atop the radio’s case. You should find that the plugs snap firmly into place and the entire assembly is absolutely rigid.
Caveat: don’t use an aluminum plate if your radio depends on separate electrical connections for the mic and speaker plug shells. The IC-Z1A has isolated shells, but remains happy when they’re connected. My Kenwood TH-F6A HT uses the shells for entirely different functions and will not work with them shorted together.
With the epoxy cured, wire the connections as usual. I had a small cable with enough tiny wires to put the mic conductors in their own shielded pair, but that’s likely overkill.
Finished plugs with epoxy blob
You could machine a nice enclosure, but I simply molded an epoxy putty turd around the connections, shells, and cable. The trick is to wait until it’s nearly cured, plug it into the radio, then shave off whatever gets in the way of the knobs, antenna plug, and other appurtenances.
Our Tour Easy recumbents have linear-pull brakes on the rear and, for some reason, the noodle on Mary’s bike didn’t quite clear the frame: the cable bent slightly around the frame when the brake was active.
That made the brake difficult to adjust, as linear-pull brakes depend on an exact balance between the restoring springs on each side. With the cable pulling to the right, the left-side pad would contact the rim first and give the brake lever a mushy pull until the right-side pad clamped down.
A quick lathe session applied to some nylon scrap turned out an extension tube that fit between the steel noodle and the (slightly broken) plastic hoodickie that engages the brake arm. I used nylon (or something slippery like that) to make sure the cable wasn’t going to bind on it.
Epoxy Potting
The noodle originally fastened into the plastic hoodickie with a small collar that snapped into a pair of holes, but I took a shortcut: JB Kwik Epoxy. The shank end of a small drill slip-fit into the hoodickie’s cable passage kept the extension aligned while the epoxy set up. The masking tape prevented the epoxy from drooling out through the two small holes: the cured epoxy plug will have a pair of retaining posts in exactly the right places. The smears on the plastic parts chipped right off, not that anybody will ever notice.
I’m depending on spring force to hold the noodle in the extension, which seems to be working just fine. This is one of those jobs where everything’s under compression all the time and the cable tension ensures good alignment.
The socket on the extension’s fat end is a snug fit to the collar swaged on the noodle; other noodle varieties seem to have other sorts of ends, so check to make sure this will work for you.
These pix show the brake assembly from below (the paint failed on the frame cross-member early on and I’ve been meaning to slather some rust converter on that spot for years. Sigh.) and the now-positive clearance between the brake cable and the frame with the brake applied.
We put out bird boxes to encourage more House Wrens, but House Sparrows often take over the boxes. This year we kept the boxes down until the sparrows had already started their nests in the bushes, hoping that the wrens would get a head start on their nests. Two days after we put the boxes up, we had a nesting pair of wrens… and two days later a pair of sparrows had evicted them and were installing their own nest.
Rechecking the box specs, it seems wrens prefer a hole somewhere between 7/8″ and 1-1/8″, but I’d drilled 1-1/2″ holes for bluebirds (a long time ago, before we knew bluebirds vastly preferred the edges of open fields). Making a hole larger is easy, making one smaller is more difficult.
Cutting off the barb
I thought of making a wood bushing, then came to my senses: a 3/4″ thick wood ring with 1/4″ walls just wasn’t going to work. Given that the wrens (or their ancestors or relatives) have already tried nesting in our gardening boots, bicycle helmets, and tool trays, I figured they wouldn’t be too fussy about the material around their entrance hole.
To the Basement Laboratory Machine Shop Wing!
The parts heap disgorged a box of huge hose barb fittings, one of which had a 1.1″ ID and a 1.4″ OD: close enough. I parted off 3/4″ from the end of the barb, using a bit not really suited for the purpose that gave a nearly perfect edge in the soft plastic. One swipe with a deburring tool and it’s done.
Bushing ready to install
A few wraps of duct tape provided a nice press fit and a springy retaining force without gluing the barb in place. This is pretty, mmmm, barbaric, but if it survives one nesting cycle I’ll do something much nicer.
Time is definitely of the essence here, as we fear the wrens have been driven away: we haven’t heard them since their eviction. I did three boxes in about half an hour; we’ll see what transpires.
The bottom pic shows the box from the front yard, where Downy Woodpeckers nested for a few years. They thought the hole needed a bit of renovation… and they have the tools for the job!
Luggage now comes with a pair of sliders on each zipper, which means that the two sliders come together when the zipper is closed. That allows you to lock the slider pulls together, which is a nice touch for those of you who think luggage locks actually improve security.
It also means that the metallic pull tabs jingle and jangle merrily together in the back of the van all the way to grandmother’s house as we go, we go.
Not to be tolerated, sez I.
Apply a length of heat shrink tubing to each tab. If you’re a locking kind of person, leave the holes on the end exposed. If you’re a real cheapskate, you could get away with shrinking just one tube per pair, but even I’m not that far gone.
The Smell of Molten Projects in the Morning 