HAMsters Antenna Building Workshop a Huge Success!
20/06/26 14:44
Building Knowledge, Building Antennas, Building Better Operators
The HAMsters Amateur Radio Group enjoyed an outstanding day of hands-on learning, construction, testing, and camaraderie on Saturday, June 20th, as members gathered for our Carolina Windom Antenna Building Workshop.
This project actually began at our May meeting, where we introduced the Carolina Windom antenna concept to our newer and less experienced operators. During that session, we explored how the antenna works, discussed its unique design characteristics, reviewed the materials required, and explained why the Carolina Windom has earned a reputation as a strong-performing HF antenna capable of providing excellent multi-band performance.
Over the past month, members gathered the necessary components, prepared materials, and came ready to put theory into practice.
Today was build day.
Working together in multiple teams, our members assembled two full-size Carolina Windom antennas designed primarily for 80-meter operation. Once construction was completed, we moved outdoors to the American Red Cross grounds where the antennas were temporarily installed among the trees for live testing and tuning.
One of the most valuable portions of the workshop involved teaching the practical skills that every HF operator eventually needs to master:
- Understanding SWR and antenna resonance
- Determining whether an antenna is too long or too short
- Learning how frequency shifts indicate required adjustments
- Properly lengthening or shortening antenna elements
- Setting realistic performance expectations
- Understanding the tuning process from start to finish
The results were excellent.
By the end of the day, three HAMsters members headed home with antennas that should provide many years of strong HF performance and countless enjoyable contacts across the amateur bands.
Just as importantly, everyone left with a much better understanding of antenna theory and practical station building skills.
The atmosphere throughout the day was fantastic. We had enough participation to divide into multiple build teams, allowing experienced operators and newer hams to work side-by-side, share ideas, answer questions, and learn from one another. That spirit of mentorship and fellowship is exactly what amateur radio is all about.
Personally, I had an absolute blast. Judging by the smiles, conversations, and enthusiasm throughout the day, I believe everyone else did as well.
A special thank you goes out to everyone who participated, helped organize the event, and contributed their time and expertise to make the workshop a success.
Photos from the event, courtesy of Ruth Lewis (KE5MHJ) and Frank (K5GNU), have been uploaded to our Events and Activities Photo Library for everyone to enjoy.
In addition, the complete Carolina Windom construction and tuning guide used during the class has been added to our Technical Library for future reference.
This workshop demonstrated something we've always believed within the HAMsters organization: when experienced operators share their knowledge and newer operators are willing to learn, everyone benefits.
Today wasn't just about building antennas.
It was about building skills, building confidence, and building the future of amateur radio.
A great day, great people, and great radio.
73,
Greg Lewis, N5XO Founder, HAMsters Amateur Radio Group
Are Hamfest dying? - A hard truth many of us don't want to admit
13/06/26 18:04
By Greg Lewis – N5XO
I never considered myself a negative person.
I’ve always been the “glass half full” kind of guy. I try to look forward, stay optimistic, and focus on the good in both life and Amateur Radio.
But after today, I honestly have to ask a question that a lot of longtime operators are quietly asking themselves:
Are hamfests dying?
And if they are…what happened?
The last several hamfests we’ve attended have honestly been disappointing, but today was the one that finally hit hard enough to make me sit down and write this.
We drove almost five hours to Dallas for what historically had been considered a pretty decent hamfest.
Not a local quick drive.
Not a casual stop.
A full commitment.
Fuel.
Time.
Planning.
We originally intended to spend the ENTIRE day there.
The plan was simple:
Enjoy the hamfest, spend the evening in Dallas, get a hotel room, relax, and make the long drive home the next morning.
Instead?
We arrived around 8:15 AM.
By roughly 10:30 AM, we were already back on the highway heading home.
And by 3:00 PM…
We were already back in San Antonio.
Think about that for a moment.
A five-hour drive each direction for an event we completely finished walking through—in detail—in barely over two hours.
Not because we were rushed.
Not because we skipped sections.
But because there simply wasn’t much there.
We walked the event twice.
Saw everything.
Talked to a few people.
And realized there was absolutely no reason to stay.
That honestly hurt to admit.
Because it wasn’t always this way.
There was a time when hamfests were absolutely packed.
Parking lots overflowing.
Tailgate areas stretched forever.
Vendor buildings wall-to-wall with equipment.
You could barely walk through some events because of the crowds.
You saw old friends every ten feet.
You found equipment you didn’t even know you needed.
You spent all day digging through treasures, talking radio, learning something new, and soaking in the atmosphere.
Hamfests used to feel alive.
Now many feel like they’re quietly fading away.
And this isn’t just one event.
Over the last four years we’ve seen the same pattern again and again:
That one still had energy.
Crowds.
Real vendor turnout.
Excitement.
You could FEEL the hobby there.
But most others?
They honestly feel like they’re struggling to survive.
So what changed?
I think several things happened all at once.
The Internet Replaced the Marketplace
Years ago, hamfests WERE the marketplace.
If you needed a radio, amplifier, tube, rotor, connector, coax, hard-to-find part, or used gear, you went to hamfests.
Today?
You can buy nearly anything online in minutes.
Amazon.
eBay.
QRZ classifieds.
Facebook Marketplace.
HRO.
DX Engineering.
The entire world became one giant 24-hour online hamfest.
That changed everything.
The Hobby Changed Generations
Another reality people don’t like talking about is this:
A lot of newer operators simply are not interested in older equipment.
The days of people digging through dusty boxes of crystals, tubes, coils, and mystery parts are fading fast.
Today’s newer operators often entered the hobby through:
COVID Changed Social Habits Permanently
I also believe COVID did far more long-term damage to Amateur Radio gatherings than many people realize.
Some older operators stopped attending large gatherings and never returned.
Some became less mobile.
Some lost interest.
And sadly, many became Silent Keys.
At the same time, online communities exploded.
Zoom meetings replaced club gatherings.
Forums replaced coffee circles.
Discord replaced hangouts.
YouTube replaced Elmers.
Convenience replaced physical attendance.
Clubs Are Aging Faster Than They’re Growing
This may be the hardest truth of all.
Many clubs today are being carried by the same small group of aging volunteers trying to hold everything together.
Burnout is real.
Attendance is shrinking.
And newer operators often don’t join clubs the way earlier generations did.
They learn online.
Buy online.
Operate online.
And many simply never develop attachment to local ham communities.
But Here’s What I Do NOT Believe
I do NOT believe Amateur Radio itself is dying.
Not even remotely.
In many ways, the hobby is technologically stronger and more diverse than ever before.
Weak signal work is growing again.
SDRs are incredible.
Mesh networking is exploding.
Digital experimentation is everywhere.
Satellite operations are easier than ever.
Portable operating is booming.
The hobby itself still has enormous life left in it.
But I DO believe the traditional hamfest model is in serious trouble.
Because rows of used equipment sitting on folding tables is no longer enough.
Today’s operators need experiences.
Demonstrations.
Hands-on activity.
Satellite stations.
Weak signal demos.
Portable operating setups.
Mesh displays.
Fox hunts.
Digital workshops.
Maker projects.
Youth involvement.
Energy.
Excitement.
Something that reminds people WHY this hobby is still amazing.
Because if hamfests continue becoming little more than shrinking flea markets full of aging equipment and empty aisles…
We are going to keep watching attendance collapse.
And that would be tragic.
Because hamfests were never just about buying radios.
They were about community.
Friendships.
Mentorship.
Excitement.
Shared passion.
And for many of us…
That part of Amateur Radio was every bit as important as the radios themselves.
I never considered myself a negative person.
I’ve always been the “glass half full” kind of guy. I try to look forward, stay optimistic, and focus on the good in both life and Amateur Radio.
But after today, I honestly have to ask a question that a lot of longtime operators are quietly asking themselves:
Are hamfests dying?
And if they are…what happened?
The last several hamfests we’ve attended have honestly been disappointing, but today was the one that finally hit hard enough to make me sit down and write this.
We drove almost five hours to Dallas for what historically had been considered a pretty decent hamfest.
Not a local quick drive.
Not a casual stop.
A full commitment.
Fuel.
Time.
Planning.
We originally intended to spend the ENTIRE day there.
The plan was simple:
Enjoy the hamfest, spend the evening in Dallas, get a hotel room, relax, and make the long drive home the next morning.
Instead?
We arrived around 8:15 AM.
By roughly 10:30 AM, we were already back on the highway heading home.
And by 3:00 PM…
We were already back in San Antonio.
Think about that for a moment.
A five-hour drive each direction for an event we completely finished walking through—in detail—in barely over two hours.
Not because we were rushed.
Not because we skipped sections.
But because there simply wasn’t much there.
We walked the event twice.
Saw everything.
Talked to a few people.
And realized there was absolutely no reason to stay.
That honestly hurt to admit.
Because it wasn’t always this way.
There was a time when hamfests were absolutely packed.
Parking lots overflowing.
Tailgate areas stretched forever.
Vendor buildings wall-to-wall with equipment.
You could barely walk through some events because of the crowds.
You saw old friends every ten feet.
You found equipment you didn’t even know you needed.
You spent all day digging through treasures, talking radio, learning something new, and soaking in the atmosphere.
Hamfests used to feel alive.
Now many feel like they’re quietly fading away.
And this isn’t just one event.
Over the last four years we’ve seen the same pattern again and again:
- Fewer vendors.
- Fewer tables.
- Smaller crowds.
- Less excitement.
- Less energy.
- More empty space than activity.
That one still had energy.
Crowds.
Real vendor turnout.
Excitement.
You could FEEL the hobby there.
But most others?
They honestly feel like they’re struggling to survive.
So what changed?
I think several things happened all at once.
The Internet Replaced the Marketplace
Years ago, hamfests WERE the marketplace.
If you needed a radio, amplifier, tube, rotor, connector, coax, hard-to-find part, or used gear, you went to hamfests.
Today?
You can buy nearly anything online in minutes.
Amazon.
eBay.
QRZ classifieds.
Facebook Marketplace.
HRO.
DX Engineering.
The entire world became one giant 24-hour online hamfest.
That changed everything.
The Hobby Changed Generations
Another reality people don’t like talking about is this:
A lot of newer operators simply are not interested in older equipment.
The days of people digging through dusty boxes of crystals, tubes, coils, and mystery parts are fading fast.
Today’s newer operators often entered the hobby through:
- SDRs
- Digital modes
- Satellites
- POTA
- Mesh networking
- DMR/Fusion
- Emergency communications
- Portable operations
- YouTube creators
COVID Changed Social Habits Permanently
I also believe COVID did far more long-term damage to Amateur Radio gatherings than many people realize.
Some older operators stopped attending large gatherings and never returned.
Some became less mobile.
Some lost interest.
And sadly, many became Silent Keys.
At the same time, online communities exploded.
Zoom meetings replaced club gatherings.
Forums replaced coffee circles.
Discord replaced hangouts.
YouTube replaced Elmers.
Convenience replaced physical attendance.
Clubs Are Aging Faster Than They’re Growing
This may be the hardest truth of all.
Many clubs today are being carried by the same small group of aging volunteers trying to hold everything together.
Burnout is real.
Attendance is shrinking.
And newer operators often don’t join clubs the way earlier generations did.
They learn online.
Buy online.
Operate online.
And many simply never develop attachment to local ham communities.
But Here’s What I Do NOT Believe
I do NOT believe Amateur Radio itself is dying.
Not even remotely.
In many ways, the hobby is technologically stronger and more diverse than ever before.
Weak signal work is growing again.
SDRs are incredible.
Mesh networking is exploding.
Digital experimentation is everywhere.
Satellite operations are easier than ever.
Portable operating is booming.
The hobby itself still has enormous life left in it.
But I DO believe the traditional hamfest model is in serious trouble.
Because rows of used equipment sitting on folding tables is no longer enough.
Today’s operators need experiences.
Demonstrations.
Hands-on activity.
Satellite stations.
Weak signal demos.
Portable operating setups.
Mesh displays.
Fox hunts.
Digital workshops.
Maker projects.
Youth involvement.
Energy.
Excitement.
Something that reminds people WHY this hobby is still amazing.
Because if hamfests continue becoming little more than shrinking flea markets full of aging equipment and empty aisles…
We are going to keep watching attendance collapse.
And that would be tragic.
Because hamfests were never just about buying radios.
They were about community.
Friendships.
Mentorship.
Excitement.
Shared passion.
And for many of us…
That part of Amateur Radio was every bit as important as the radios themselves.
Are We Slowly Losing the Soul of Amateur Radio?
31/05/26 16:55
N5XO Blog
Are We Slowly Losing the Soul of Amateur Radio?
There are moments in life when you suddenly realize something you love is quietly changing around you. Not with some dramatic collapse or loud announcement, but slowly…almost silently. One day you simply stop, look around, and realize something important feels different.
Lately, I have been feeling that way about Amateur Radio.
That statement honestly surprises even me. I have always been one of the hobby’s biggest optimists. I still believe Amateur Radio is one of the greatest technical and social hobbies ever created. It teaches electronics, communication, emergency preparedness, engineering, physics, friendship, patience, and problem solving all wrapped into one incredible world.
But if I am being truthful, I also fear for where we are heading.
What troubles me most is not that the hobby is shrinking on paper. In fact, by the numbers, Amateur Radio continues to grow. More people are getting licensed. More radios are being sold. More digital modes are appearing every year. More software exists than ever before.
Yet somehow, despite all of this growth, the actual personal involvement in the hobby feels like it is slowly fading away.
And that is the part that hurts.
For many of us who have been around for decades, Amateur Radio was never just about making a contact. It was about the people behind the microphones. It was about conversations that lasted an hour instead of thirty seconds. It was about hearing familiar voices every evening on simplex. It was about helping a new ham put up their first antenna, tuning a cavity filter together in someone’s garage, or sitting around at a club meeting debating feedline losses and propagation conditions until late into the evening.
We were not just operators.
We were a community.
Today, we increasingly live in a world built around isolation and reduced human interaction, and sadly we are beginning to see that same trend inside of what is supposed to be a communication hobby.
Digital modes continue to explode in popularity, and while they absolutely have technical value, many of them remove the very thing that made Amateur Radio special in the first place: actual communication between human beings.
A signal gets exchanged.
Data gets transferred.
The computer logs the contact.
And then both operators move on without ever really speaking to one another.
No conversation.
No stories.
No laughter.
No friendship.
No connection.
We are exchanging information, but in many cases we are no longer truly communicating.
At the same time, much of the experimentation and home brewing that once defined the spirit of Amateur Radio is fading as well. There was a time when hams built things because they wanted to understand how they worked. Operators designed antennas from scratch, modified old commercial gear, built converters on kitchen tables, and spent nights troubleshooting circuits just for the joy of learning.
Today much of the hobby has become appliance operation. Buy it. Plug it in. Update the firmware. Operate it exactly as delivered.
Convenience has replaced curiosity.
And perhaps even more concerning, many clubs and organizations are slowly struggling not because people have lost interest, but because fewer people are willing to actually participate and help carry the load.
That may sound harsh, but it is true.
You still see people joining clubs. You still see memberships being renewed. But too often people join for what they can gain rather than becoming part of the actual community that supports the hobby. The same small group of older hams organize the events, run the repeaters, teach the classes, coordinate emergency communications, handle the finances, maintain the websites, prepare the swap meets, and keep everything alive.
And every year, that group becomes a little smaller.
The old guard is becoming Silent Keys.
Many of the men and women who built this hobby into what it became are leaving us. They spent decades mentoring others, maintaining infrastructure, creating clubs, organizing events, and building communities that lasted generations.
But now there are fewer people willing to step forward and take the reins.
That reality is becoming impossible to ignore.
You can see it clearly at hamfests, conventions, and swap meets.
My wife Ruth and I recently attended a local event, and honestly it was sobering. Just three or four years ago, you could barely walk through the venue. The aisles were packed shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of people attended. Tables overflowed with old radios, rare tubes, test equipment, military surplus gear, rotators, amplifiers, connectors, and those impossible-to-find parts needed to bring an old rig back to life.
That was part of the magic.
You never knew what treasure you might discover sitting under a dusty table.
But this last event felt very different.
There appeared to be almost as many non-ham-related tables as actual Amateur Radio vendors. Attendance was dramatically smaller. Major manufacturers and dealers increasingly do not seem interested in traveling to many of these events anymore. I do not have exact attendance numbers, but honestly, it did not even look like one hundred people attended this most recent swap meet.
Even some of the larger national events seem different now.
We attended the Huntsville Hamfest, which has always impressed us as one of the major Amateur Radio gatherings in the country. To be fair, attendance this past year seemed somewhat better than the previous year. There was still energy there. Still excitement. Still signs of life.
But even Huntsville somehow felt smaller than it once did.
Less crowded.
Less vibrant.
Less electric.
Maybe part of that is nostalgia. Maybe every generation believes the “good old days” were better. But I do not think this feeling is entirely imagined.
Something is changing.
Over the next six to eight months, Ruth and I plan to attend several larger events around Texas and beyond. In fact, we already have another event planned within the next week. Part of me hopes what we experienced recently was simply an anomaly. I truly want to believe that.
Because despite everything I have written here, I still love this hobby deeply.
I still believe there is nothing else quite like it in the world.
Where else can someone bounce signals off the moon, build antennas in their garage, provide emergency communications during disasters, experiment with microwave frequencies, talk across continents on homemade equipment, and create friendships that last a lifetime?
Amateur Radio still has enormous value.
But if we want this hobby to survive not just as a collection of frequencies and digital protocols, but as a living, breathing community, then we must start investing in it again personally.
We need operators willing to mentor.
We need people willing to volunteer.
We need younger hams willing to lead.
We need conversations instead of only automated exchanges.
We need builders again.
We need communities again.
And perhaps most importantly, we need to remember that Amateur Radio was never supposed to simply connect radios.
It was supposed to connect people.
— Greg Lewis, N5XO
Are We Slowly Losing the Soul of Amateur Radio?
There are moments in life when you suddenly realize something you love is quietly changing around you. Not with some dramatic collapse or loud announcement, but slowly…almost silently. One day you simply stop, look around, and realize something important feels different.
Lately, I have been feeling that way about Amateur Radio.
That statement honestly surprises even me. I have always been one of the hobby’s biggest optimists. I still believe Amateur Radio is one of the greatest technical and social hobbies ever created. It teaches electronics, communication, emergency preparedness, engineering, physics, friendship, patience, and problem solving all wrapped into one incredible world.
But if I am being truthful, I also fear for where we are heading.
What troubles me most is not that the hobby is shrinking on paper. In fact, by the numbers, Amateur Radio continues to grow. More people are getting licensed. More radios are being sold. More digital modes are appearing every year. More software exists than ever before.
Yet somehow, despite all of this growth, the actual personal involvement in the hobby feels like it is slowly fading away.
And that is the part that hurts.
For many of us who have been around for decades, Amateur Radio was never just about making a contact. It was about the people behind the microphones. It was about conversations that lasted an hour instead of thirty seconds. It was about hearing familiar voices every evening on simplex. It was about helping a new ham put up their first antenna, tuning a cavity filter together in someone’s garage, or sitting around at a club meeting debating feedline losses and propagation conditions until late into the evening.
We were not just operators.
We were a community.
Today, we increasingly live in a world built around isolation and reduced human interaction, and sadly we are beginning to see that same trend inside of what is supposed to be a communication hobby.
Digital modes continue to explode in popularity, and while they absolutely have technical value, many of them remove the very thing that made Amateur Radio special in the first place: actual communication between human beings.
A signal gets exchanged.
Data gets transferred.
The computer logs the contact.
And then both operators move on without ever really speaking to one another.
No conversation.
No stories.
No laughter.
No friendship.
No connection.
We are exchanging information, but in many cases we are no longer truly communicating.
At the same time, much of the experimentation and home brewing that once defined the spirit of Amateur Radio is fading as well. There was a time when hams built things because they wanted to understand how they worked. Operators designed antennas from scratch, modified old commercial gear, built converters on kitchen tables, and spent nights troubleshooting circuits just for the joy of learning.
Today much of the hobby has become appliance operation. Buy it. Plug it in. Update the firmware. Operate it exactly as delivered.
Convenience has replaced curiosity.
And perhaps even more concerning, many clubs and organizations are slowly struggling not because people have lost interest, but because fewer people are willing to actually participate and help carry the load.
That may sound harsh, but it is true.
You still see people joining clubs. You still see memberships being renewed. But too often people join for what they can gain rather than becoming part of the actual community that supports the hobby. The same small group of older hams organize the events, run the repeaters, teach the classes, coordinate emergency communications, handle the finances, maintain the websites, prepare the swap meets, and keep everything alive.
And every year, that group becomes a little smaller.
The old guard is becoming Silent Keys.
Many of the men and women who built this hobby into what it became are leaving us. They spent decades mentoring others, maintaining infrastructure, creating clubs, organizing events, and building communities that lasted generations.
But now there are fewer people willing to step forward and take the reins.
That reality is becoming impossible to ignore.
You can see it clearly at hamfests, conventions, and swap meets.
My wife Ruth and I recently attended a local event, and honestly it was sobering. Just three or four years ago, you could barely walk through the venue. The aisles were packed shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of people attended. Tables overflowed with old radios, rare tubes, test equipment, military surplus gear, rotators, amplifiers, connectors, and those impossible-to-find parts needed to bring an old rig back to life.
That was part of the magic.
You never knew what treasure you might discover sitting under a dusty table.
But this last event felt very different.
There appeared to be almost as many non-ham-related tables as actual Amateur Radio vendors. Attendance was dramatically smaller. Major manufacturers and dealers increasingly do not seem interested in traveling to many of these events anymore. I do not have exact attendance numbers, but honestly, it did not even look like one hundred people attended this most recent swap meet.
Even some of the larger national events seem different now.
We attended the Huntsville Hamfest, which has always impressed us as one of the major Amateur Radio gatherings in the country. To be fair, attendance this past year seemed somewhat better than the previous year. There was still energy there. Still excitement. Still signs of life.
But even Huntsville somehow felt smaller than it once did.
Less crowded.
Less vibrant.
Less electric.
Maybe part of that is nostalgia. Maybe every generation believes the “good old days” were better. But I do not think this feeling is entirely imagined.
Something is changing.
Over the next six to eight months, Ruth and I plan to attend several larger events around Texas and beyond. In fact, we already have another event planned within the next week. Part of me hopes what we experienced recently was simply an anomaly. I truly want to believe that.
Because despite everything I have written here, I still love this hobby deeply.
I still believe there is nothing else quite like it in the world.
Where else can someone bounce signals off the moon, build antennas in their garage, provide emergency communications during disasters, experiment with microwave frequencies, talk across continents on homemade equipment, and create friendships that last a lifetime?
Amateur Radio still has enormous value.
But if we want this hobby to survive not just as a collection of frequencies and digital protocols, but as a living, breathing community, then we must start investing in it again personally.
We need operators willing to mentor.
We need people willing to volunteer.
We need younger hams willing to lead.
We need conversations instead of only automated exchanges.
We need builders again.
We need communities again.
And perhaps most importantly, we need to remember that Amateur Radio was never supposed to simply connect radios.
It was supposed to connect people.
— Greg Lewis, N5XO
The Day Lightening Finally Found Me:
20/05/26 15:58
N5XO’s Thoughts
“Well… Apparently Lightning Finally Found Me”
For more than 50 years in Amateur Radio, I’ve been one of those guys when it came to grounding and lightning protection. You know the type — the ham who lectures everybody else about proper station grounding, bonding, surge suppression, single-point entry panels, PolyPhasers, tower grounding rings, coax disconnects, and why “plugging it into a power strip” is not lightning protection.
And honestly? I was proud of it.
Over five decades of storms, towers, antennas, amplifiers, computers, rotators, preamps, feedlines, and enough RF to probably confuse small wildlife for miles around… I had never lost a single piece of equipment to lightning.
Until last night.
Apparently Mother Nature finally looked down and said:
“Well boys… let’s test Greg’s theory.”
And honestly? Considering what happened, I’d still say the grounding system passed the test.
We took a serious nearby strike during the storms. As far as I can tell, it was not a direct hit on the tower itself — and thank goodness for that — but it was close enough to inject a massive pulse somewhere into the station environment.
The casualty list currently appears to be:
- One radio connected to the 144.200 weak signal antenna system
- A Meshtastic relay node
- Our tower-mounted 180-degree 16 MP camera we use for antenna tracking and monitoring
- Possibly a few other minor surprises still waiting to be discovered
The most of the radios survived. The amplifiers survived. The computers survived. The bench test equipment survived. Most of the station survived.
And considering the amount of metal hanging in the Texas sky above my shack, that’s saying something.
Because let me tell you something many newer operators do not fully appreciate:
Lightning does not have to directly hit your antenna to destroy equipment.
A nearby strike can induce enormous voltages into coax lines, control cables, Ethernet lines, AC wiring, grounding differentials, and pretty much anything conductive. The pulse rise time is unbelievably fast, and when thousands — sometimes tens of thousands — of volts suddenly appear where they shouldn’t, electronics become very expensive fuses.
That’s why proper grounding matters.
And no — I’m not talking about the classic “I drove an 8-foot rod into the dirt behind the shack and called it good” approach.
Real protection means:
- Proper tower grounding
- Multiple bonded ground rods
- Heavy copper bonding between rods
- Single-point ground entry
- Coax surge suppressors
- AC surge protection
- Bonding all equipment together
- Proper feedline grounding
- Eliminating ground potential differences
- Protecting network and Ethernet paths
- Understanding that lightning protection is about controlling energy paths — not magically “stopping” lightning
No system can guarantee survival from a direct strike. Nothing can.
But a properly designed grounding system can dramatically reduce damage and help ensure that when the inevitable happens, you lose some equipment instead of all equipment.
And last night proved exactly that.
Honestly, if this had happened 30 years ago before I became obsessive about grounding and bonding, I suspect the damage list would have looked more like this:
- Radios: cooked
- Computers: smoked
- Rotor controllers: dead
- Amplifiers: now decorative paperweights
- Ethernet switches: molten sadness
- Shack owner: sitting in darkness muttering words inappropriate for publication
Though I will admit…
There is something deeply irritating about surviving decades without lightning damage only to have your station finally say:
“Congratulations Greg. Your immunity has expired.”
The camera loss particularly hurts because that 180-degree tower camera had become incredibly useful for antenna tracking, rotor verification, weather observation, and general tower monitoring. Of course lightning always seems to target the gear you actually like.
And naturally, the tiny little Meshtastic relay that barely draws enough power to light a Christmas bulb apparently sacrificed itself heroically for the greater good.
A moment of silence for the little node.
What this experience really reinforces is something many hams unfortunately learn only after disaster strikes:
Grounding and lightning protection are not optional station accessories.
They are part of the station.
We spend thousands on radios, amplifiers, antennas, towers, feedline, computers, and test equipment — but many operators still neglect the one system that protects all of it.
A properly grounded station is not glamorous. Nobody brags about copper strap at Field Day. There’s no “Best Grounding System” plaque at hamfests.
But when the Texas sky turns black and the static crashes start rattling the speaker…
That grounding system suddenly becomes the most important piece of equipment you own.
And last night, mine earned its keep.
So today’s lesson from Cedar Creek Ranch is simple:
Lightning eventually comes for everybody.
The goal isn’t to pretend you can stop it. The goal is to make sure your station survives it.
Mine mostly did.
And honestly… after 50 years, I’ll still call that a win.
June ARRL VHF/UHF Contest
19/05/26 06:32
The June ARRL VHF/UHF Contest is almost here… and if you have NEVER experienced a truly active weak signal weekend, you are missing one of the greatest thrills in Amateur Radio.
This is the weekend the “dead bands” come alive.
Suddenly 50.125 erupts with signals from across the country. 144.200 becomes wall-to-wall activity. Rovers are moving grid-to-grid. Stations are pointing beams in every direction. Operators are chasing openings, tropo, meteor scatter, aircraft enhancement, rain scatter, and every tiny propagation advantage they can squeeze out of the atmosphere.
For one weekend… weak signal operators take over the bands.
And THIS is what real VHF/UHF operating was built around.
There is absolutely nothing boring about hearing a weak station rise out of the noise floor from Florida while you are sitting here in EL09 Texas fighting fading, turning antennas, tweaking gain, and trying to complete a contact before the band collapses.
One minute the band sounds empty… The next minute you are working a station in EL98 Florida that was completely inaudible 30 seconds earlier.
THAT is the adrenaline rush that hooks people on weak signal operating.
Not automation. Not staring silently at a waterfall. Not letting software do the work.
REAL operating.
Operator skill matters during these contests.
Your antennas matter. Your feedline matters. Your preamps matter. Your ability to hear weak signals matters. Your timing matters. Your operating technique matters.
That is exactly why I strongly encourage operators to spend as much time as possible on PHONE and CW during the contest and avoid parking on FT8 the entire weekend.
FT8 has its place. It absolutely does. It can be a fantastic tool for experimentation and extremely weak signal work.
But when FT8 starts replacing live activity during contests, it drains the life out of the bands.
Instead of hearing operators calling CQ… Instead of active run frequencies… Instead of fast paced exchanges… Instead of pileups and excitement…
…the bands become quiet while everyone watches software make contacts for them.
That is NOT what made VHF weak signal operating exciting. That is NOT what built this part of the hobby.
The heart of VHF/UHF contesting has always been human skill, fast operating, station performance, and the pure excitement of pulling impossible signals out of the noise with your own ears.
Some of the greatest moments in Amateur Radio happen during these contests.
The impossible contact. The sudden opening. The unexpected grid. The weak station that builds from barely audible to armchair copy. The rover you finally catch after chasing him across four grids. The station 800 miles away that should NOT be there… but somehow is.
That excitement is why many of us fell in love with weak signal operating in the first place.
So get on the air.
Call CQ. Work grids. Turn the beams. Wake up the bands again.
Dust off the equipment. Check the hardline. Sweep the antennas. Fire up the amplifiers. Get portable. Get mobile. Get active.
And PLEASE… Spend some time on SSB and CW where the real heart and soul of VHF/UHF contesting still lives.
Let’s make this June contest loud. Let’s make it active. Let’s fill the bands with signals again.
50.125 USB 144.200 USB 222.100 USB 432.100 USB 1296.100 USB
See you in the contest.
— Greg Lewis N5XO EL09 HAMsters Weak Signal Group
“Real Hams don’t need no stinking repeaters.”
This is the weekend the “dead bands” come alive.
Suddenly 50.125 erupts with signals from across the country. 144.200 becomes wall-to-wall activity. Rovers are moving grid-to-grid. Stations are pointing beams in every direction. Operators are chasing openings, tropo, meteor scatter, aircraft enhancement, rain scatter, and every tiny propagation advantage they can squeeze out of the atmosphere.
For one weekend… weak signal operators take over the bands.
And THIS is what real VHF/UHF operating was built around.
There is absolutely nothing boring about hearing a weak station rise out of the noise floor from Florida while you are sitting here in EL09 Texas fighting fading, turning antennas, tweaking gain, and trying to complete a contact before the band collapses.
One minute the band sounds empty… The next minute you are working a station in EL98 Florida that was completely inaudible 30 seconds earlier.
THAT is the adrenaline rush that hooks people on weak signal operating.
Not automation. Not staring silently at a waterfall. Not letting software do the work.
REAL operating.
Operator skill matters during these contests.
Your antennas matter. Your feedline matters. Your preamps matter. Your ability to hear weak signals matters. Your timing matters. Your operating technique matters.
That is exactly why I strongly encourage operators to spend as much time as possible on PHONE and CW during the contest and avoid parking on FT8 the entire weekend.
FT8 has its place. It absolutely does. It can be a fantastic tool for experimentation and extremely weak signal work.
But when FT8 starts replacing live activity during contests, it drains the life out of the bands.
Instead of hearing operators calling CQ… Instead of active run frequencies… Instead of fast paced exchanges… Instead of pileups and excitement…
…the bands become quiet while everyone watches software make contacts for them.
That is NOT what made VHF weak signal operating exciting. That is NOT what built this part of the hobby.
The heart of VHF/UHF contesting has always been human skill, fast operating, station performance, and the pure excitement of pulling impossible signals out of the noise with your own ears.
Some of the greatest moments in Amateur Radio happen during these contests.
The impossible contact. The sudden opening. The unexpected grid. The weak station that builds from barely audible to armchair copy. The rover you finally catch after chasing him across four grids. The station 800 miles away that should NOT be there… but somehow is.
That excitement is why many of us fell in love with weak signal operating in the first place.
So get on the air.
Call CQ. Work grids. Turn the beams. Wake up the bands again.
Dust off the equipment. Check the hardline. Sweep the antennas. Fire up the amplifiers. Get portable. Get mobile. Get active.
And PLEASE… Spend some time on SSB and CW where the real heart and soul of VHF/UHF contesting still lives.
Let’s make this June contest loud. Let’s make it active. Let’s fill the bands with signals again.
50.125 USB 144.200 USB 222.100 USB 432.100 USB 1296.100 USB
See you in the contest.
— Greg Lewis N5XO EL09 HAMsters Weak Signal Group
“Real Hams don’t need no stinking repeaters.”
