QRP To The Field
is an annual amateur radio contest for QRPer’s. Every year we take
to the field and operate low power radios to a contest theme. This
year’s theme was “run to the border”. Sitting on interstate borders,
operators got extra points for bringing two, three, or four states to life
with one contact. Along these lines, extra points were given if you
had a picture of your operating site in which a Taco Bell restaurant could
be seen. “Yo Quiero QRP!” was our call.
Tom Johnson,
KQ6DV, his XYL Bobbie, KF6AYH, my daughter Marissa, and I began our adventure
on Friday April 23, 1999. With packs on our backs, we began our hike
to Lane Trail Camp in the Santa Cruz Mountains. The six-mile hike
would take us along several creeks, through an old growth redwood forest,
up through chaparral, and into forests of knobcone pine, chinquapin, and
buckeye. The park lists this hike as strenuous as it climbs 1300
feet over the last 3 miles. The trail was beautiful with vivid wildflowers
dotting the many rushing streams and waterfalls.
Upon arriving
at our destination, we quickly set up camp and began to assemble our stations.
I brought my new K2
with its internal 3 AH battery, a 5-watt solar panel to charge the battery,
and a multi-band dipole. Tom brought a Small
Wonders 40+, a AA battery pack, and a 40-meter dipole.
We used a slingshot and fishing line to place the antennas about 35 feet
in the pines. To test my station, I called Eric, WA6HHQ, on his 440
MHz repeater. Being one of the designers of the K2, he was very interested
to see how the K2 would perform in the field. He quickly readied
his rig for a K2 to K2 test QSO. 599 was the signal report.
I would be ready for the start of the contest in the morning.
Since Lane Trail Camp has no water, Tom and Bobbie set off to get water for the day. The nearest water was about 45 minutes back down the trail. Using their GPS and a topographical map, Tom and Bobbie found a closer source and went off trail in search of it. We kept in touch with little family radio service HT’s, just in case they got lost.
Morning began
with the yuppie hiker’s libation, instant latte. With a quick set
up of the station, we were ready to go. The contest began at 16:00
UTC (9:00 am PST) and lasted 8 hours. Contacts were made with 40
other stations in 21 states, including Hawaii, Alaska, Alberta and British
Columbia. One border station was at the Four Corners, a junction
of Utah, New Mexico, Arizona, and Colorado. Tom operated under his
own call and worked 16 stations on 40 meters. He worked several non-contest
ops that were amazed at the quality of his 2-watt QRP signal and started
ragchewing with him.
Sitting at the operating site was an interesting study in lizard behavior. I was planted on one edge of the territory of a blue belly lizard. During the course of the day, I watched as many other lizards entered his territory and were chased off by his amusing displays. A blue tailed skink also ambled by. There were many birds and interesting insects to observe. The least charming of which were the giant mosquitoes. These kept distracting me at inopportune times causing me to send strange Morse code replies.
As evening
approached, the weather changed dramatically. The coastal fog rolled
in along with a 20-degree drop in temperature. Bobbie and I watched
as Tom, having a nice leisurely QSO with an OM in Idaho, was engulfed in
a frigid haze. Moments later the haze had engulfed us with its bone
chilling cold. We quickly ate dinner and retreated to our tents for
a warm evening of reading and pac-gammon.
During the night, we were treated to a display of what keeps the coastal forest so beautiful. The cold fog condenses, forming droplets on tree leaves warmed by the day’s sun. As the fog’s accompanying wind blows, the droplets fall like rain. At 2:00 am I awoke to the dreaded sound of howling wind and waves of rain like spray on the tent. I now had to get out of my warm cozy nest and go out into the freezing mist. Once there, I met Tom as we scrambled to get our packs to dryer ground.
Our morning pace was furious as we rushed in the cold damp air to pack our drenched equipment for the hike down the hill. We took our time stopping for photos and a nice lunch, but still managed to shave an hour off our uphill time. Upon arriving at my truck, it was time for my favorite task at the end of a great backpacking trip, the ceremonial removal of the boots. Then for the ride home and a nice hot shower.