I thought cleaning that mess up would solve an intermittent power problem, but the camera continued to fail immediately after being deployed and finally refused to work at all.
The camera case has eight (!) AA cells in one half connected to the electronics in the other half by a pair of wires that pass through the hinge between the halves:
The steel rod is the hinge pivot, with the battery half wearing brown and the electronics half in lighter plastic. As you’ll see in a bit, the rod is fixed in the electronics half and the battery half pivots around it.
The two short case sections on the right contain the two wires carrying the 6 V battery power. Some gentle manipulation suggested the fault lay inside those hinge sections, which meant I had to figure out how to get them apart.
The other end of the steel rod has a knurled section jammed firmly into the electronics half, but I managed to carve away just enough plastic to expose just enough of the knurl to get just enough of a grip (yes, with a pair of genuine Vise-Grip 10WR Locking Pliers, accept no substitutes) to yoink the rod out:
With the hinge released, the problem became immediately obvious:
Yes, those are wire strands poking out of the hole in the left hinge section.
A tedious needle-nose tweezer session extracted the remains of the wires from the hinge and cleaned out the adhesive:
Although those two hinge sections are hollow with plenty of room for the wire, it seems the assembler squirted adhesive into both sections to glue the wires in place. As a result, every time I opened the case to charge the batteries, maybe two millimeters of wire twisted 180° degrees. The wonder is that it lasted as long as it did.
I snaked a pair of 20 AWG silicone-insulated wires through the hinge sections:
The OEM wires had PVC insulation, which is a terrible choice for wires that will undergo lots of flexing, but that’s what SJCam used.
Two untidy blobs of acrylic caulk do at least as good a job of sealing the case openings as the black gunk visible in the earlier pictures:
I left all of the wire in the hinge un-stuck, hoping the twist will distribute itself over maybe 5 mm of wire and last longer.
In anticipation of future repairs, however, I left enough of the knurled end of the hinge rod exposed to get an easy grip:
Solder the new wires to the old pads, assemble in reverse order, and it works as well as it ever did:
The alert reader will note I did not reset the camera clock after charging the batteries, a process requiring the janky SJCam app.
The two finches on the right have been constructing a nest in the wreath hanging at our front door. They tolerate our presence, although they’d be happier if delivery folks dropped packages elsewhere.
While I was turning this year’s leaves into mulch for next year’s vegetables, a supervisor landed on my glove:
I thought it was a very small stick insect covered with leaf chaff, but it turned out to be a Pale Green Assassin Bug nymph with built-in armor and spines:
Something like that, anyway.
This katydid supervised while I put the tools away:
Those scary stern claspers must come in handy for something, but I’d rather not be on the receiving end.
It was a cool morning and the snake hadn’t yet reached operating temperature, but it eventually flowed off into the garage and we went on our way.
A few hours later we returned:
Apparently that was the best place for a snake.
Mary lined up a four-cell seedling pot ahead of the critter, encouraged it to flow forward, and much to our surprise it tucked neatly into one of the cells:
We carried it to the herb garden, wished it well, and a few hours later it had uncoiled and gone about its business.
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it:
In point of fact, I almost didn’t see it.
This was the fourth time Mary deported the critter from her gardening shoe, whereupon it hopped out of her hands onto the concrete patio. She hauled it to the far end of our lot and wished it well; so far it has not returned.
We are reliably informed it’s a gray tree frog, not a toad as we originally thought.
A garter snake has taken up residence under our garbage can and is startled when I wheel it away:
This week it was curled into a compact bundle:
The blue eyes indicate it’s in the process of shedding its skin, so next week we’ll have an even bigger and shinier guardian.
Shedding one’s skin apparently requires a great deal of thought, as it remained in that pose while I fetched Mary, then moved deliberately off into the leaf litter behind the can.
The small rodent population around here has definitely declined: garter snakes are murder on field mice and the hawks are taking out the chipmunks.
The six sticky traps guarding Mary’s onion beds in her Vassar Community Gardens plots collected this assortment of critter and mulch from mid-July through mid-August, when she harvested the last of the crop:
The labels do not match those on the first set through mid-July, because I don’t care quite enough to keep track of them.
The traps don’t collect many onion maggot flies, which suggests that a little control goes a long way. As far as she’s concerned, these traps work very well, because the crop has very little maggot damage.
Searching for onion sticky traps will produce the rest of the collection. Contact me for the full resolution images, should you need to ID all the critters.