The biggest issue with do-it-yourself maps is being able to print a map that’s larger than 8.5″ x 11″. Not many of us have a printer that’ll handle paper much bigger than that, so if you’re printing your own maps, you’ll likely need several sheets to cover the entirety of your trip. Also, some printers are better than others, and the quality of your self-printed maps may not be as good as you’d like. It’s true that you can still buy the original USGS 7.5-minute quads on paper, but chances are good that you’ll need more than one to cover your trip–the map boundaries are never located where you need them, it seems.

Enter MyTopo.com.

MyTopo.com covers the best of both worlds. You can browse the topo maps online for free (several scales, actually–not just the 7.5-minute quads), select exactly the region you want (spanning multiple quads, if needed), and then order a custom printed map of exactly what you want. Maps can be printed in sizes from 18″ x 24″ (for $9.95) all the way up to 5′ x 8′ (for big bucks). Maps are printed on waterproof paper with your choice of markings like titles and lat/long/MGRS grids, and they’ll deliver them to you either folded or rolled. If you prefer your map printed on glossy paper, or even laminated, you can have that, too. Shipping costs are reasonable–as little as $2.25 for a folded map via first-class mail. Rolled maps more expensive to ship (but still reasonable). There are plenty of shipping options, too, depending on how quickly you need the map to arrive.

Here’s a preview of what you’d receive:

Preview of topo map from MyTopo.com (click for larger preview in new window)

I ordered a map from them last week, covering a section of the Collegiate Peaks wilderness here in Colorado. My map was a 24″ x 36″ folded map for $14.95 that they delivered via USPS priority mail for $5.95 (regular first-class was only $2.25!). I ordered it on Saturday and it arrived on Wednesday–pretty speedy service. The map itself looks great–excellent quality paper and printing with professionally-done legends, folded just like a map you’d buy at your favorite map store. If the weather had been decent this weekend, I’d actually be out in the wilderness using my new map instead of sitting here at my computer telling you about it.

To me, it’s definitely worth spending fifteen or twenty bucks to get the right map for a wilderness expedition, and MyTopo.com definitely did not disappoint. I’ll be using them again for my future map needs.

I don’t make it out for this event every year, but when I do I can usually count on a few curve balls being thrown my way. Usually the pitcher is Ma Nature, but sometimes it’s me. One year it snowed several inches overnight as we slept in our tents. Another year we endured a snowstorm just before the event but were lucky enough to discover bare, dry ground when we arrived at our camp site. Of course, it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect anything different this year.

Steve N0MHQ was my unwitting co-conspirator for this year’s event, and we hit the road early Saturday morning. Destination: the Ute Creek Trail in the Lost Creek Wilderness in Colorado. It took us about an hour and a half to get to the trail head. It usually takes an hour or so of hiking from there to arrive at our campsite on a little-visited ridge line off the trail, but this year would be different.

We began our hike up the trail, arriving at the point where we usually jump off the trail and begin a fairly steep ascent up the ridge line to the area we usually camp. But I was thinking back to ten or fifteen years ago when I decided to hike farther up the trail and subsequently discovered another jumping-off point that allowed an approach to our camp site from the opposite direction. This alternate route was longer but the climb was gentler, and I suggested to Steve that we could go that way if we wanted. Steve was looking forward to the steep climb even less than I was, so he was agreeable.

He should have known better.

Consider the following facts:

1) I’m over fifty years old, and anything that I remember from ten years ago or longer is probably wrong or may not have even occurred.

2) I didn’t bother with bringing a map, compass, or GPS because I had been on this hike (the usual route, not the alternative I’d proposed) about a million times.

So, there I was leading an expedition up the trail looking for a bush-whacking route that I only vaguely remembered from a decade or more ago. Not only would I need to recognize the right spot to jump off the trail, I’d also need to remember how to go cross-country to get to the right destination with no map. What do you suppose the chances were for success?

That’s right: zero. We hiked up the trail well past where I thought we should have found the jumping-off point without any hint of its presence. Finally, after about 45 minutes, I admitted defeat and we turned back, giving back all the elevation we’d gained.

At least it was a nice day for a hike.

We ended up turning an hour hike into about two and a half hours, finally reaching the top of the ridge line about 11 AM, Steve reminding me the whole way that we’d now climbed this twice. We decided on a camp site, dropped our packs, grabbed some lunch, and then we decided it was time to get the ham gear set up and start making some contacts. The first order of business was to get an antenna up in the air, and Ma Nature supplied a bounty of potential antenna supports in the form of majestic pine trees.

Getting an antenna up in the air in the woods is generally a matter of throwing a line over a tree branch and then hoisting the center of our dipole antenna up the tree. We’ve done it successfully more times than I can recall. Usually, I’ll tie a rock to the end of the line and then heave it over the branch. This day, though, Steve offered me a two-ounce lead sinker that he’d painted fluorescent orange. I took it, fixed my line to it, and prepared to throw. As I stood on the proverbial pitcher’s mound preparing to hurl the sinker, I felt a bit of concern over the fact that I’d not even warmed up in the bullpen before throwing this pitch. I gave it my best effort anyway but the sinker fell woefully short of its target.

Steve, standing by and watching the buffoonery, looked at me with a certain disdain, like he was wondering whether my IQ exceeded that of the lead sinker I’d just heaved. Apparently, there is technique to be used that I had overlooked. Sheepishly, I handed Steve the line and the sinker and asked him to demonstrate.

Steve demonstrating proper technique with the throwing line

Steve began swinging the lead sinker vertically in a circular motion, apparently with the intent to release the line at just the right moment so that the sinker would travel over the target tree limb, taking the line with it. That was the theory, anyway.

The sinker sailed left. The sinker sailed right. The sinker sailed just under the target limb. The sinker once sailed on what looked like the perfect path, only to jerk back to the ground because Steve was standing on the line. Once, the sinker sailed over the limb but refused to fall down the other side far enough for us to reach it. After that toss, Steve decided to use his very thin line instead of my heavier line, and to his credit he was finally successful. We used his thin line as a pilot for my heavier line, and eventually we’d managed to hoist the center of the dipole a good distance into the air (though having taken many more attempts to do so than ever before).

Steve and I began extending the legs of the dipole in an inverted-vee configuration, thinking that the battle was one. All of a sudden the center of the dipole began a free-fall that was interrupted only by another branch in its path. Our success had turned into failure! The zip tie that I’d used to secure the line to the center of the dipole had failed to hold, causing the center to fall.

Curses! I’d had it with this antenna. It clearly did not desire to be hung in the tree. Or perhaps it simply did not want to be forced to radiate. Regardless, it was clear what had to be done. We went to the relief antenna. I suggested to Steve that he put up his inverted Y vertical for 20 meters, and we’d use that to get on the air.

Instantly, our fortunes shifted. Steve erected his antenna efficiently and without fanfare while I took every opportunity to berate my dipole as I repacked it. The dipole gave no indication of embarrassment or remorse, though, as I stuffed it into its bag.

Finally, we were on the air. I pulled out my trusty Elecraft K1, a reliable friend for many years, and within minutes we had bagged our first contact for the event. Steve and I leisurely took turns at the controls, working a station or two at a time in between the various tasks associated with getting our campsite ready for the evening. When not actually at the controls, we left the K1 running so we’d have the melodic CW playing in the background while we set up shelters and enjoyed our peaceful surroundings–in complete contrast to the clownishness experienced earlier.

Steve working a station for QRP to the Field

To be truthful, Steve and I didn’t exactly knock ourselves out trying to maximize our score for the event. We took a relaxed, balanced approach to ensure we enjoyed the outdoor experience as much as the radio play. Between the two of us we barely made more than a dozen contacts, but neither of us ended up being particularly concerned about that. Despite doing everything the hard way–having taken the long way to our campsite, the antenna-launching debacle, and the low score–the weekend was definitely considered a wild success.

(You can see more pictures from our outing here.)

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Field Day 2009 was a total blast for me this year! After missing the last few years for various reasons, I finally managed to get out of the house and on the trail with Steve wGØAT and his QRP goats Rooster and Peanut (well-known characters here in the list). As usual, we chose Mt. Herman (just west of Monument, Colorado) as our Field Day site, due to its close proximity, elevation, and abundance of excellent campsites.

I met Steve at his place on Friday afternoon, and he promptly provided me with my own official QRPgoat expedition t-shirt–a picture of Rooster with the caption, “Old Goats Rule–QRP Adventures.” For me, this was like getting my Gold Card–I knew I’d *arrived*!

The hike up Mt. Herman is short but steep (with a nice flat section right in the middle). I took the point and Steve hung back a little with Rooster and Peanut. All was smooth and uneventful until, as I neared the top, I heard Steve call out to me, “Dave, grab Rooster!” I turned and saw Rooster trotting up the trail, missing his panniers and fifty pounds of gear. Steve followed close behind, and told me how Rooster (AKA “Knucklehead”) had tried to squeeze between two trees and stripped off his packs, breaking a buckle. We weren’t so worried about the buckle–it was the camp refreshments in the packs that were our main concern. Luckily, there were no casualties. After a quick repair, we were back on the trail and soon arrived at our campsite.

The first order of business at our campsite (after dropping our packs, of course) was to enjoy one of those camp refreshments that Rooster hauled up the hill for us (and for that, I shall refrain from calling him names like Knucklehead). After a little rest and refreshment, we set up camp, got dinner going, and enjoyed a beautiful evening on Sunrise Ledge, a rock outcropping that overlooks Monument, Palmer Lake, and Colorado Springs.

Saturday morning found us busily assembling our stations, deploying antennas, erecting tarps for shade and shelter, and preparing for the Field Day starting gun at noon. Steve brought his Yaesu FT-817 and his ICOM IC-703, along with a variety of fiberglass masts, Buddisticks, and whatnot. I brought my Elecraft K1 (with internal lithium AA’s) and my jumper dipole fed with RG-174.

Steve’s Buddistick is an interesting contraption. Steve configured it in quite a few different ways over the weekend in order to work 6, 10, 15, and 20 meters (I shoulda been paying more attention as he played with it–I mighta learned something). Saturday morning he configured it as a vertical dipole, strapped to a small pine tree at the edge of the cliff, using a length of fiberglass mast to push it higher in the air. Seemed like it was working quite well, too. Until Knucklehead–er, Rooster–wandered by and proceeded to tangle himself in the coax. As he struggled to get free, Rooster snapped the fiberglass mast and brought the whole works down. Thankfully, Steve was quick to disconnect the coax from his rig, and the only casualty was the mast.

Luckily, Steve has goats to haul his gear so he can bring an assortment of backup gear on these expeditions. He had a shorter replacement mast on hand, and soon he was back on the air. Steve worked the HFPack frequencies while we waited for the festivities to begin. Once noon rolled around, I started on 40 meters while Steve worked the higher bands.

I had my K1 set for three watts, and you can imagine that making contacts on 40 meters at noon using three watts took patience and work. I worked ten or so stations, mostly close in. In between contacts I was treated to amusements of various sorts by Steve’s goats. Rooster *really* hates the big deer flies, and he would occasionally take a mad dash across the campsite in a valiant but futile attempt to elude them. It wasn’t long before Steve had Rooster hitched to a tree to avoid a repeat of the morning’s episode. (It should be said that Peanut was a model citizen through the whole weekend…)

Steve took his boys for a little hike around mid-afternoon, so I jumped over to 20 meters where things were really hopping. I’m not bustin’ many pileups with my 3 watts, but I’m gradually filling the log with contacts. My CW’s pretty rusty, too, so I take extra time listening to make sure I get the exchange correct. I programmed the keyer memories in my K1 to send my call sign and my exchange, so I had to touch my paddle only occasionally. (Heaven forbid anybody trying to engage me in a CW ragchew these days…)

All afternoon we were alternately baking and cooling as the sun and the clouds took turns adjusting the thermostat. And, as is usual for Colorado in the summer, the skies darkened in late afternoon and the thunder began to rumble. I disconnected my antenna and made sure that all my gear was stowed, because rain was on its way. Lucky for us, the brunt of the storm passed north of us and to the east, and we only had to hide from the rain for a few minutes. It was quite a show to watch, though, and on Sunrise Ledge it felt like we had ringside seats. We were treated to a neon-bright rainbow in the finale–what a show!

We took advantage of the radio timeout to make some dinner and relax, and after the storms finally passed, Steve jumped on 15 meters and I stayed on 20, and we worked contacts til dark. I’d managed to get about 50 in my log by this point. Not a record-setting pace, but fun!

Sunday morning started with a cup of coffee and a chat with NØMHQ in town about 20 miles away using 2 meters with my Yaesu VX-2R. It’s amazing what a couple of watts and line of site will do, and the VX-2R is a great little rig for dragging along on outings like this. I use it for weather radio, for tuning in the FM stations for a little music, and for local communications. I consider it absolutely essential gear for a trip like this.

Steve and I both worked a few more stations on Sunday morning before it was time to pack everything up and head down the trail. The hike back down was uneventful, and it’s always interesting to see the reactions of other hikers when they encounter Rooster and Peanut on the trail. According to one tiny lad, Peanut is not a goat–he’s a moose!

Anyway, we were back down the mountain and at Steve’s place by noon. It was a good thing, too, as the rain poured on Mt. Herman later that afternoon! Glad our storm-dodging karma was working this weekend!

Thanks a billion to Steve for being a great QRP and backpacking buddy–I don’t know how many times we’ve been out like this, but it’s been a bunch. And thanks to those QRP goats Rooster and Peanut, too–not only for transporting my water and other refreshments up the hill, but also for being a frequent source of amusement and entertainment. And thanks to everyone who was on the air this weekend–great fun!

P.S. Steve posted a great slideshow of our trip! And you can see my pics here.

Our campsite probably wouldn’t have allowed for more than two small tents, but Steve and I were both using hammocks on this trip. The abundance of trees made it easy to find a place to hang our beds, and soon we were enjoying a couple of cold ones (carried by the goats, of course) and building a fire in the fire ring (more like a fireplace) built by previous users of the site. The fire was great–I rarely have a fire when I’m backpacking–but even better was to take our refreshments and camp chairs out onto the cliff and marvel at the blood-red moon rising on the eastern horizon. From our vantage point we could see the lights of Denver to the north and all of Colorado Springs to the south. Moderate temperatures and just a light breeze contributed to a wonderfully enjoyable evening! Finally we retired to our hammocks, noticing that our campfire had burned itself out much earlier.

One of the fun things about camping trips like this one is the chance to try out some new gear or new techniques. On this trip, I slept in a hammock for the first time. I have to say that I slept pretty comfortably, although I woke up a few times during the night (not unusual for me). Mine is the SingleNest Hammock from Eagles Nest Outfitters. My wife bought it for me when she saw it on sale (almost half off!) at an Eddie Bauer store. It’s not one of the fancy backpacking hammocks (like the Jungle Hammock from MosquitoHammock.com, or the North American Hammock from JungleHammock.com that Steve was using on this trip), but I didn’t need protection from bugs or bad weather. Besides, I used the Diamond Rain Fly from MosquitoHammock.com to protect me from raindrops if we saw any.

Sleeping on the ground or on a thin sleeping pad can be pretty uncomfortable–at least it’s always been that way for me. I always found myself tossing and turning at night when I slept on my lightweight Thermarest pad no matter my sleeping position. Things improved some with my new Big Agnes insulated air-core sleeping pad and my ultralight inflatable pillow from BackpackingLight.com. But sleeping in the hammock was a definite step up from sleeping on the ground. It’s important to have an insulating layer between you and the hammock, because sleeping on your sleeping bag compresses the insulation underneath you and removes its insulating properties. I simply threw my Big Agnes pad in the hammock and slept in my sleeping bag on top of that, and I was fine. Rocking back and forth was not an issue, and I never once felt like I would tip over and fall out.

I was awake before the sun on Saturday morning, but that’s not unusual for me. I was looking forward to watching the sunrise from the cliff, anyway, and we had time to make coffee and breakfast before a blood-red sun peeked over the horizon. While we enjoyed the sunrise and our breakfasts, Rooster and Peanut climbed among the rocks on the cliff, happily grazing in places I wouldn’t go without a safety line. the goats seemed truly oblivious to the danger of falling and certain death. I guess that’s how goats are.

Once breakfast was finished it was time to get down to business–er, pleasure. I brought a newly-constructed antenna with me for this day–a jumper dipole for 15, 20, 30, and 40 meters (matching my K1, of course). Simply put, this antenna was cut for 15 meters but had extensions to make it resonant on 20, 30, and 40 meters, and some surplus press-fit connectors are used to connect (or disconnect) each segment. The whole works was fed with about fifty feet of RG-174 (not optimal, I know, but it’s lightweight and compact). I used a BNC connector to connect the feedline at the feedpoint of the antenna so that the feedline could be carried separate from the rest of the antenna, and so I could easily change to a different feedline. The downside of this antenna is that it needs to be lowered to change bands, of course.

Once I managed to get the antenna up in the air about 25 feet in an inverted vee, I was ready to get on the air. I brought my Electraft K1 which was newly-modified with the internal battery option and a homebrew tilt stand. I was using eight Energizer Lithium AA batteries in the K1, which would provide plenty of juice for the entire day (and probably an entire weekend). This would be the first field test for the homebrew tilt stand.

Steve and I both found great perches on the cliff for the day’s operations. Here’s mine:

You can kinda see my homebrew logging clipboard there. I made it from a 6″ x 9″ piece of 22-gauge steel and used hobby button magnets to hold the paper to the board. My paddle also has a magnetic base so it stuck nicely to the board and I could infinitely adjust its position for optimal operating ergonomics.

Over the course of the day, Steve and I took turns on 20 meters, and I also spent a little time on 40 meters. I ended up with a dozen or so contacts, both from QRP Afield and from the Colorado QSO Party going on at the same time. I called CQ quite a bit but got only a few takers. I spent some time calling CQ on 15 meters, too, but heard absolutely nothing on that band. I think that either Steve or I could have doubled the number of contacts we made if we weren’t taking turns on the bands, though. For some reason, though, when I’m outside on a beautiful day like this one was, I just don’t care that much about how many contacts I make.

The modified K1 worked well. I had no trouble with the batteries, and the homebrew tilt stand proved to be very stable (maybe a little wiggly, but it never threatened to tip over). The new jumper dipole worked well, too–the K1′s internal tuner matched the antenna to the transceiver with a better than 1.3:1 SWR on every band, and did so very quickly (as it should, since the antenna was basically cut for resonance). Even the clipboard worked well. I wasn’t sure about the weight (almost a half pound), but I think that was actually an advantage in the breezy environment.

Overall, it was a highly-successful outing. All of my new equipment (hammock, headlamp, K1 mods, clipboard, and antenna) seemed to work famously, and the views were spectacular. The weather was great, the temperatures moderate, and it was good to get out with Steve and the goats for a little while.

Be sure to check out Steve’s video of the weekend’s festivities on YouTube.

The KTS1 uses 10-32 thumbscrews to attach to the K1 (the stock K1 has the holes for the screws already in place). I decided to use a strap of aluminum and a couple of thumbscrews to make my own stand.

I found suitable thumbscrews (actually, knobs) and a 1″ wide strap of 1/16″ aluminum at Lowe’s for a total of about $10. I cut and bent the aluminum to make a U-shaped handle that can swivel around the back of the K1 (acting as a handle), and then I added an extra piece of aluminum on the bottom that swivels out to stabilize the stand:

I fastened the swivel piece to the rest of the stand using a pop rivet, but any number of methods could have been used. I also used a thin nylon washer between the two aluminum pieces, and between the stand and the K1, to minimize scratching the metal. The only other things that I did were to use a metal snips and a file to round the ends of the aluminum, and to give it a couple of coats of Krylon satin black spray paint. No one who knows me would confuse me with a master craftsman, so if I can build it, so can you.

If I were to build another one, I’d consider using heavier aluminum. The one I built will wobble slightly due to the thinness of the aluminum, but it’s a very minor issue. Overall, it seems plenty stable, and it’s extremely lightweight.

Typically, when I hit the trail with my K1, I pack a 2-AH gel cell to power it. Works great, but the gel cell is kinda heavy and bulky. So, in a moment of boredom (I had the itch to build something, I guess), I ordered the KBT1 internal battery option and installed it.

Although the documentation for the KBT1 mentions using alkalines or rechargeable NiMH batteries, my intent was always to install Energizer lithium AA batteries. These batteries are not cheap. You’ll find a four-pack at Target for about ten bucks, and the KBT1 takes eight of them. But here are the good parts:

• They have a 15-year shelf life.
• They pack a 3000 mA-H punch (even at a 1000 mA discharge rate).
• They have a very flat voltage profile while discharging, meaning they don’t drop appreciably in voltage until the end of their life, unlike alkaline and NiMH batteries.
• They’re lighter than alkaline and NiMH batteries.

You can see for yourself–here’s the datasheet. But I digress.

The KBT1 comes with an aluminum bracket, battery holder, a switch and protective diode, wiring, replacement speaker, and a new top cover that removes quickly when batteries need to be replaced. Since the normal configuration of the K1 is to have the speaker attached to the top cover, replacing the cover necessitated replacing the speaker as well (with one that’s slightly smaller and held in place by the aluminum bracket). I’ve seen a few complaints on the web about the lack of volume from the replacement speaker, but I haven’t really noticed any big difference (the audio is much better with the cover on than off).

I spent about two hours installing the KBT1. Installation is straightforward, once you remember exactly which screws to remove in order to take off the top and bottom covers. I probably haven’t opened up my K1 in over five years, so it took a minute to get it apart. As usual with Elecraft, the quality of the instructions is excellent, and the kit is made well. The only nit I’d pick is that the replacement cover needed to be tweaked a little because the surfaces weren’t quite flat and the bend was a little more than 90 degrees. These were easy things to fix.

The replacement cover is very easy to remove and reinstall–simply unscrew two thumbscrews in the back and slide it off. Another nice feature is a separate switch, recessed in the top cover, for disabling the internal batteries (to keep them from draining if the rig is accidentally switched on, and for when you want to connect an external battery).

Once I had the KBT1 installed, I powered up the rig and noted that the battery voltage was 14.7 V. With about 3000 mA-H of capacity, this is an ample replacement for the gel cell I was using.

With lithium AA batteries installed, my K1 (including the 4-band module and the internal ATU) weighs exactly two pounds. The KBT1 option added about 9 ounces to its weight. However, I can now leave my  25-ounce 2-AH gel cell at home, so I save a pound with this new configuration.

Of course, it’s not exactly in the same size/weight category as KD1JV’s ATS-3, but I can live with that. I probably wouldn’t take the K1 out on a backpacking trip unless we’re going out for a ham radio field event anyway. For other times, I have an ATS-2 (a forerunner of the ATS-3). But I’ll bet I could run an entire Field Day weekend with just the internal batteries.

Being an occasional backpacker, I use topographic maps both for planning hikes and camping trips, and for navigating on the trail. My map of choice, just like practically everyone else, is the 7.5-minute USGS quad. I obtained my first one of these back in the late 80′s, before the internet, and before it was feasible to store much map data electronically (can you say “40 MB hard drive”?). I think I ended up ordering it from someplace, and it came in the mail rolled up in a cardboard tube. I think I just about wet my pants when I first unrolled it. It was soooo cool! The level of detail on that map (1 inch = 2000 ft) was more than I’d ever experienced, and I could determine the latitude and longitude of anything on the map. It wasn’t long before I could smugly recite the coordinates of my house down to the arc second or so.

It wasn’t until around 1997 that I discovered that it was possible to actually purchase topographical maps in software packages on CD. My first (and so far still only) mapping package was Topo! by Wildflower Productions (now produced by National Geographic). I bought a package that gave me maps for most of western Colorado. I think I paid $70 or so, and I still use them today. The software does a nice job of stitching the maps together to make one more-or-less continuous map at high resolution. You can also use the software to transfer routes and waypoints to (or from) your GPS, and you can trace routes, examine elevation profiles, and do lots of fairly cool stuff. Nowadays you can buy numerous state editions of the software for about a hundred bucks.

Besides mapping packages like these (and there are others), the number of online mapping resources appears to be growing. Topozone has been around now for several years, and I believe even Google Maps can show you topographical features. There’s also the National Map, which makes a large amount of USGS map data available in a web-based viewer. My experience with web-based mapping is that it’s either not free (Topozone requires a subscription, for example) or it’s not the most convenient to use for creating maps that can be printed.

I kept wondering when the USGS would finally get around to making their existing raster maps available for download. They’d been available in digital form for a while through third parties for a fee, but I’m too cheap to pay for large quantities of them. So I’d check every so often to see if anything new was available. I checked again this morning (for the first time in a year, probably). Lo and behold, I discovered that you can now indeed download raster maps for free! Here’s the link:

http://store.usgs.gov/locator/

This link takes you to an interactive tool for finding the maps you are looking for. Selecting a location will show you what maps are available for that location. They have other maps besides the 7.5-minute quads. Once you find the map you’re looking for, you can simply download the map as a PDF file (in zipped form).

You can simply use Adobe Reader to view the map, or you can optionally download the free GeoPDF toolbar for Adobe Reader from TerraGo Techologies. This toolbar adds some interesting and useful capabilities to Adobe Reader for using these map files, including geosearch capabilities and some distance and direction measuring tools.

Although you can’t really print out these maps with a regular printer and have them come out in a usable form (because the maps are much bigger than an 8.5 x 11 piece of paper), Adobe Reader has a Snapshot Tool (under Select & Zoom on the Tools menu) that you can use to select and copy rectangular chunks of the map into an image editor (like MS Paint) for further annotation and printing. The Snapshot Tool will select and copy the selected region at whatever zoom factor is being displayed, so make sure to set the zoom to 100% (or whatever you desire) before doing the copy operation. The Snapshot Tool will scroll the document as you’re selecting the rectangular region, so you’re not limited only to those portions of the map that are visible. You can also select a region at a lower zoom level and then zoom in before copying it (technically, whenever you release the mouse button to finish selecting your region, Adobe Reader copies the selection at that resolution to the clipboard, but you can recopy the selection to the clipboard after zooming by right-clicking on the selection and choosing Copy Selected Graphic from the menu that pops up).

These free downloadable maps won’t replace the mapping software I already own, but I can easily see using these maps to augment the capabilities I already have. I’m going to like this.

Well, QRP Afield 2007 has come and gone. As is customary, our merry little band assembled on Friday afternoon to begin the journey to our campsite for this year’s event. Dave NK0E, John N0HJ, and Steve N0MHQ made up our group this year. Steve N0TU, a regular for these events, was enjoying retired life by hitting the trail for a five-day venture with his goats and his brother-in-law and couldn’t join us this year. Our destination was once again along the Ute Creek Trail in the Lost Creek Wilderness west of Colorado Springs. This area is absolutely perfect for such adventures. It’s easily accessible, not far from water, but yet secluded and sparsely traveled. We can reach the trailhead in an hour and a half from Colorado Springs, the roads to the trailhead are good, and we can reach our campsite in less than an hour’s hike from the trailhead. Yet, we have *never* seen another hiker near our campsite (and I’ve camped in this area at least eight times over the years).

We marshalled the troops and left Colorado Springs by 3 PM, reaching the trailhead around 4:30 after stopping in Woodland Park for a bite to eat. The trailhead was nearly empty, and we passed a couple of hikers with a dog on our way up–they undoubtedly accounted for the only other vehicle at the trailhead. The sky looked a little bit ominous as we hiked, and we heard some far-off thunder rumbles, but that didn’t detract from the absolutely perfect conditions for the weekend. We reached our campsite in about an hour’s time, and after dropping our packs and scouting the area, we each set up our shelters and began relaxing for the weekend. By the time dinner was finished, the sun had set and we were losing our light quickly. This, of course, meant that it was time to sit back, enjoy the company, and admire the evening sky as the stars poked through between the clouds. It was an absolute perfect evening–little wind, moderate temperatures (upper 40′s and low 50′s), and (of course) whatever beverages we chose to bring along.

Saturday morning, I crawled out of my tent expecting to be greeted by a brisk morning with chilly temperatures, but I was mildly surprised that it was already nearly 50 degrees. Down came the food bag from its place above the reach of bears, and after breakfast and morning rituals it was time to get on the air. I packed fairly light for this event–just my ATS-II with 20m band module, and an inverted Y antenna for 20 m. John had his ATS-III with tuner that he packaged into a Batman tin, using (I think) a random wire for an antenna. Steve brought along his SST and inverted Y for 20m, but I don’t think it ever made it out of his pack (sometimes, it’s nice to just enjoy the place and the moment and not worry about trying to work contacts).

So, I got my inverted Y hung in the tree, connected up my ATS-II, flipped the switch to turn it on, and heard–nothing. Nada. The ATS-II annunciates its name in CW when you turn it on, but this time I didn’t hear anything. The rig wasn’t working. Rats.

It was then that I determined that the rig works *much* better if you plug the headphones into the headphone jack instead of the paddle jack. D’oh!!!

But 20 meters was pretty quiet at 9 AM MDT. I heard only one or two very faint QRP stations. I worked WN1GIV not long after 9 AM, but pickin’s were pretty slim after that so I decided to start packing up some of my gear while I waited for the band to wake up a little bit. John was having the same experience with his rig and antenna, so I figured it wasn’t just me. Anyway, off and on through the day we’d get on the air, work a contact or two, and then attend to other activities or simply enjoy being out in the woods.

We’d pretty much reached our limit as 2 PM rolled around (I worked a grand total of 6 stations), so we packed up our gear and headed back to the trailhead and the drive back to town. Despite the sparse band conditions for QRP Afield, we all agreed that it was an *excellent* and thoroughly enjoyable weekend! For us, QRP Afield is as much an excuse to get our backpacking gear out as it is a radio event, so it’s a great time, good bands or bad.

You can see a few pics of our adventure at

http://pictures.eksfiles.net/2007-09-14/

73, Dave NK0E