Rainy days and Wednesdays!

I believe it would be a fair assumption to say no one enjoys a visit to their dentist. However, when the reminder for my cleaning appointment came up on my phone for the next day, I was happy and could hardly contain my enthusiasm. Now, before you go thinking that something was off with me being enthusiastic about a dental cleaning, let me clarify that my excitement was due to the fact that my usual park, US-1518, is on the way to my dentist and I could squeeze a POTA activation in. Well, that does not sound good either! Maybe something is not right with me after all...

I had an evening appointment scheduled so that I could go to the dentist after work. On the way back, I was planning to stop at the park and get the activation done. The forecast predicted rain all afternoon, so I decided to use my four-wheeler for the commute that day. The dentist is about an hour's drive away (50 miles) from work. This was during a time when pretty much every road in southeast Michigan was under construction. I looked up Google traffic and picked one of the two freeway routes that sounded promising. About 30 minutes into my commute, I hit the construction zone where the westbound traffic was routed temporarily into the eastbound lanes. This meant concrete barricades on both sides with no access to most exits in a construction zone that lasted about 10 miles.

As luck would have it, a careless driver decided to crash into the barricade, and traffic was completely stalled. The concrete barricades made it incredibly difficult for emergency vehicles to reach the point of the crash, meaning it was going to be a long wait. I called my dentist's office and apprised them of the situation. They said they could push my appointment back by an hour at most before the cleaning technician had to leave for the day. I let them know I would see if the situation resolved soon and if I could still make that window. After hanging up, I settled in. I fired up my VHF radio and put out CQs on three repeaters to pass the time and chat with whoever was listening.

Crickets... Eventually I decided to listen to my favorite podcast.  The minutes ticked on and went past the hour mark. No way I am getting my teeth cleaned that day. I called into my dentist office to reschedule the cleaning. 

 After what seemed like an interminable wait, I finally saw some emergency vehicles creeping up on the other side of the road (which was actually under construction). Looks like they decided to pause construction and safely let these vehicles through. After a further 30 minutes, the traffic started to creep and then move. 

To get back home from the point where I was stuck I had to pass the park I had intended to activate. A coincidence? I think not. The POTA spirits were sending me a message. I was going to be there a little earlier than planned. My plan was to get to the park close to the UTC date change so  I can get two activations together. I decided to take the plunge anyway and go in for an extended activation. The bands were decent that day. I had multiple DX contacts from EU and a first one from Brazil. I got over 100 contacts [mostly on 20m] for the one UTC day by the time the clock rolled past the 8PM local time. I quickly hopped on to 40m and nabbed about 12 contacts to complete the activation for the new UTC day. 

Rainy day activation at US-1518

What a way to salvage the evening. The rain let up just enough for me to set up my gear, log my contacts, and turn a frustrating, construction-delayed evening into a successful POTA activation. My teeth didn't get cleaned, but my logbook grew—and in the grand scheme of things, any ham radio operator will tell you that is a much better way to spend an evening anyway!

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My Journey to QRQ: From Zero to 35+ WPM

It is no secret: I am a CW aficionado.

I was originally a ham back in the 1990s, but I never operated on HF during that time. Living in a tiny apartment, I had no practical way to put up an HF antenna. VHF provided all the distraction I needed.

The Unexpected 13 WPM General Pass

That was the era when the FCC introduced the Technician Plus category. After I passed my Tech exam, a friend told me he had just passed his Tech Plus by copying Morse code at 5 WPM. Although I had no immediate intention of getting on HF, I didn't want to be outdone by my buddy.

I started learning Morse code just to upgrade. My friend handed me a bunch of cassette tapes, and I practiced diligently for the test. If I recall correctly, the code test simply involved listening to a simulated QSO and answering a few questions about the content—like identifying the sender's call sign. I passed with flying colors.

The VE administering the test looked at me and said, "Well, now that you're here, why not try the 13 WPM General test?" After making absolutely sure there were no negative consequences for failing, I gave it a shot. To this day, I have no idea how I managed it, but I eked out a passing grade. The only downside was that I now had a 365-day window to pass the written portion of the General exam to capitalize on it.

Eventually, life became busy. I was increasingly drawn away from the radio, dropped the hobby completely, and let my license lapse.

The Pandemic Plunge and an Unpleasant Surprise

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I decided to take the plunge back into ham radio. I took my exams via a Zoom call, which was a pretty intense experience. The VEs had me pan my camera across the entire room to ensure no one else was present, and they even made me open my closet to ensure no one was hiding inside! This time I passed the General exam successfully and picked up my first modern HF rig, a used Icom IC-7100.

As I tuned around the HF bands for the first time, I finally heard live CW. Hmm. The dits and dahs made absolutely no sense to me. I was shocked to find that my CW recognition skills had completely degraded to nothing over those two decades. As it turns out, CW is nothing like the old cliché about learning to ride a bike—you absolutely can forget it if you don't use it!

Getting Back on the Wagon

I decided to get back on the CW wagon, purely as a personal challenge. Things were much different in 2022. There was a wealth of digital resources available to learn code. I used them all: smartphone apps, websites like LCWO.net, and even MP3s of literary classics like Moby Dick rendered entirely in Morse code.

While those tools helped immensely with copying, I still needed to practice my sending. It took me quite a while to regain my confidence. I practiced sending for hours by turning my rig's break-in (BKIN) function OFF and listening strictly to the side-tones. Thanks to modern rigs, there was no need for an external practice oscillator.

Finally, I decided I was ready.

I will never forget the sheer nervousness I felt when an operator responded to my very first CW CQ. I was so anxious that the details remain a blur; I was just glad when we finally exchanged 73s. The rest, as they say, is history. Today, I am a dedicated ragchewer who is perfectly comfortable copying and sending CW at speeds near 30 WPM.

Joining the QRQ Crew

It would not be an exaggeration to say that I am completely hooked on CW. I love conversational ragchewing and constantly strive to improve my operating proficiency. While groups like CWops are fantastic for bringing code enthusiasts together, many major organizations today tend to lean heavily toward contesting. Because I am not particularly into the contesting scene right now, I wanted to find a space focused purely on the art of high-speed conversation.

That pursuit naturally drew me toward QRQ crew, a group dedicated to promoting conversational CW at 35 WPM and above. It has been an incredible experience so far. I am thoroughly enjoying the challenge, the rapid-fire pacing, and the unique operating opportunities provided by the crew members.

If you are curious about high-speed operations and can sustain even a brief burst of conversational CW at 35 WPM, you should absolutely look into joining the crew.

The À-La-Carte Buffet of Amateur Radio: There’s Room for Everyone

 The "Isms" Dividing Ham Radio: Are We Our Own Worst Enemy?

Amateur radio is a deeply personal hobby. There are so many facets to being a ham. You can choose to tinker and build your own homebrew rigs, work QRP, chase DX, work satellites, brag about contest victories, or try your hand at SOTA and POTA.

There is, of course, one major factor that cross-cuts all these aspects: the mode. You can choose to do voice using SSB or AM on the HF bands, or FM on the VHF/UHF bands; you can pound brass on CW; or you can try wide-ranging digital modes, from the veteran RTTY to the more recent FT8 and FT4.

Nothing about these opportunities is mutually exclusive, and many amateur radio operators explore most of these options at some point in their journey. This à-la-carte buffet ensures there is no boredom, as there is always something different to try.

The Pitfalls of "In-Group" Thinking

It does pain me when I see online forums and even the airwaves filled with "in-group" and "out-group" thinking. There are purists who look down upon anyone who does not use a personally built rig, labeling them as mere "operators." I would prefer if they took pride in their own achievements rather than using them as a cudgel to put down other hams.

Then there are the "code" vs. "no-code" wars that never cease to elicit strong reactions from all sides. The removal of the CW code requirement for operator licenses seems to irk some of those who went through those rites of passage in the past. To them, it feels like a lowering of standards.

The code requirement was historically seen as a bulwark against the "CB riff-raff"—a way to keep them away from the pristine portions of the amateur bands. As an amateur radio operator who learned CW and finds great enjoyment in it, I understand the effort it takes to get proficient. I always have great respect for other amateurs who opt to do the same. I derive great pleasure from operating CW and wish more amateurs would give it a try. However, this pleasure is in no way diminished by others who enjoy being on the air in their own personal way, nor do I believe they are lesser hams.

The Polarizing World of FT8 and FT4

I dare not bring up FT8 or FT4 in any group of amateurs. Nothing divides the camps more than these weak-signal data modes. Even among those who love the mode, there is a rift between those who believe using high power is acceptable and those who do not. Then there is the fundamental debate about whether using computers makes it a true amateur radio pursuit.

I will grant you that these modes do not appeal to me personally, but I can certainly see the joy they bring to many amateurs with compromised antennas or the inability to run high-powered stations. From my interactions on local repeaters, I know of a senior amateur who gave up his favorite home and moved into a living arrangement with strict antenna restrictions. He is over 90 years old and regularly chimes in with excitement after making contacts through FT8.

A few other hams I know use a magnetic loop antenna inside their condos or have a hamstick out on the balcony just to enjoy being on the air. FT8 makes it possible for them. Objecting to it entirely discounts the technical intricacies that make FT8 possible in the first place.

Contesters: Spectrum Annoyance or Spectrum Protectors?

And finally, let's talk about contesters. Every time a major contest ends, the airwaves are filled with vitriol about how contesting is taking over the bands. This animus applies to POTA activities as well. Most critical opinions discount perfunctory exchanges with a standard signal report as going against the grain of amateur radio. Many comments also cite the "entitlement" of contesters.

I have been on the receiving end of this, where contesters muscle onto an active frequency. One moment all is fine and you're enjoying a QSO; the next moment, the contest starts and the airwaves explode with contesters calling CQ. Yes, busy contesting weekends can make the airwaves difficult to access for regular hams, which is especially pronounced on the voice portions of the band.

But I contrast this with the signal desert that symbolizes the airwaves during normal times. In this regard, contesters bring much-needed activity to the air. I believe that when the time comes to revisit amateur radio band allocations, the high utilization during contest periods will provide strong evidence to keep our current spectrum from diminishing.

Ultimately, amateur radio thrives because of its diversity, not in spite of it. Whether you are pounding brass on CW, chasing weak signals on FT8, or racking up contacts in a weekend contest, every operator plays a vital role in keeping our airwaves alive. Instead of building walls between our chosen modes, we should celebrate the fact that our spectrum has room enough for every kind of passion.

A-la-carte buffet with place for all

Ultimately, amateur radio thrives because of its diversity, not in spite of it. Whether you are pounding brass on CW, chasing weak signals on FT8, or racking up contacts in a weekend contest, every operator plays a vital role in keeping our airwaves alive. Instead of building walls between our chosen modes, we should celebrate the fact that our spectrum has room enough for every kind of passion.