Daniel’s World 2.0: Recalibrated

There’s something deeply satisfying about breathing new life into old tech, and this time, my project involves a hybrid creation that sounds a bit like a Frankenstein's monster of computing. The mission? Upgrade the family’s trusty Dell OptiPlex 390 by replacing its 2nd-gen i5 innards with the more robust heart of my retired Fujitsu Lifebook, powered by a 6th-gen i7. Now, before we continue, I just have to pause and appreciate the name "Lifebook." It’s poetic, isn’t it? Like the laptop was destined to live on in some form forever—ironically, by shedding its slim, portable body to be reborn inside a chunky desktop case. A "LifeBox," if you will. Out with the Old, in with the Faster The first step in this tech transplant is swapping out the OptiPlex's ancient HDD with an SSD. If you’ve ever experienced the difference an SSD makes, you know it’s like upgrading from walking through molasses to sprinting on a racetrack. It’s not just an upgrade; it’s a revelat...

 So, you’ve decided to jump into the world of 3D printing. Welcome to a hobby that’s equal parts rewarding, frustrating, and downright addicting. Whether you’re looking to prototype your next big idea, fix something around the house, or just print a ton of silly figurines (no judgement), there’s a printer out there for you. But before you start dreaming of perfect prints, let’s break it all down: how to get started, what to expect, and why most printing problems are—spoiler alert—your fault. Now, I’m not writing this as some 3D printing guru. Honestly, I see 3D printers as tools rather than a full-time hobby—though it can definitely become one. My perspective comes from countless hours tinkering with machines, including the time I built a wooden RepRap out of cut-up MDF and completely reworked a Da Vinci 1.0 to run custom firmware. So yeah, I’ve been around the block, and I’m here to help you avoid some of the headaches I’ve had along the way. Step 1: Picking Your Printer Your...

 There’s something incredibly satisfying about taking something broken, something discarded, and giving it another chance. My recent adventure with an Icom IC-735 was exactly that: part repair, part detective work, and entirely rewarding. When I first got my hands on the IC-735, it was completely lifeless—no power-on, no display, no signs of life. To most people, it looked like a lost cause. But to me, it was an opportunity to learn and, with a little patience, a chance to resurrect a piece of radio history. The initial investigation didn’t disappoint—it was a mess. The capacitors, which are often the first to go in older equipment, were in bad shape, and some had leaked corrosive electrolyte onto the PCB. Traces near the power supply input were eaten away, cutting off key connections. Even worse, a diode near the PSU input had blown, blocking power from reaching the regulators entirely. And, as if to add insult to injury, the 5V regulator responsible for powering the CPU was also...

Amateur radio is a funny hobby sometimes. There’s this never-ending pursuit of the “perfect signal” — you know, the one where your audio is crystal-clear, your signal cuts through pileups like a hot knife through butter, and every report you get back is a glowing 599. But here’s the thing: perfection in ham radio is as elusive as, well, an actual unicorn. And even funnier? You don’t need perfection to have a blast or to make great contacts. I’ve got firsthand experience with this. As a high schooler with next to no income, I don’t exactly have the budget to splash out on the latest radios or fancy antenna setups. I’ve seen people spend thousands chasing that dream of the ultimate station — delta loops strung across their backyards, gleaming modern transceivers with more colours on the screen than a Christmas tree. And yet, here I am, happily racking up contacts with gear that’s, let’s say, a bit more “creative.” Take my coil-loaded whip, for example. It’s not much to look at, just ...

My journey into amateur radio didn’t exactly begin with a family member or a neighbour's introduction like it does for many—it started in a very different place: the National Museum of Computing in Milton Keynes. If you’ve never been, this place is like stepping into the living history of computers. Tucked away in the heart of Bletchley Park, the museum’s unique location is steeped in history, surrounded by the very grounds where the WWII codebreakers cracked Enigma. Among its exhibits, you’ll find everything from colossal early computers to vintage gaming consoles and more Raspberry Pi’s than you could shake a GPIO pin at. Little did I know at the time that is also where the Radio Society of Great Britain National Radio Centre is located too. It was at a Raspberry Pi event there years ago that I first heard people talking about amateur radio. At the time, I was more focused on programming, tinkering with Pi’s, and making little robots, but the idea of radio stuck with me. I mea...

If there’s one thing amateur radio teaches you, it’s the importance of timing. Whether you’re zero-beating CW signals, tuning your antenna just right, or aligning schedules to catch that rare DX station, everything boils down to when and how you act. Recently, I’ve been wrestling with timing in two very different ways: one in my radio adventures and the other in my life. Let’s start with the radio side of things, because I’m sure that’s what you’re here to see. My QRP Labs QMX+ is an incredible little transceiver, but I’ve had a love-hate relationship with using it for WSPR (Weak Signal Propagation Reporter). If you’re not familiar, WSPR is all about sending super-precise, low-power signals to map out propagation conditions. Sounds great, right? Except WSPR demands accuracy—we’re talking down to the half second at least—to reliably commence transmissions precisely. Without a GPS module attached, the QMX+ is at the mercy of whatever clock you feed it, be it the terribly set RTC or y...

 The Kenwood TS-450SAT is a radio that hams still rave about, even decades after its release. Known for its "bulletproof" transmitter, top-class receiver, and satisfying gear-driven tuning mechanism, it’s no wonder this transceiver has earned a legendary status in amateur radio. From the smooth precision of its VFO dial to the clean audio it pumps out, the TS-450SAT was a masterpiece of its time—and a highly sought-after rig even today. But like all good things, time has its way of leaving a mark. Components wear, solder joints degrade, and even the most beloved radios sometimes find themselves in need of a long overdue servicing. Recently, I found myself tasked with restoring one of these classics. It was a project that would test both my patience and my troubleshooting skills. The TS-450SAT came to me with a laundry list of minor issues: a dirty VFO encoder, some cold solder joints in the PLL section, complete loss of audio (C104 had exploded!) and a stubborn relay that re...

 If you’re into ham radio and love building things, chances are you’ve heard of QRP Labs. Hans Summers and his team have created some of the most interesting kits out there, like the QRP Labs QCX, the QMX, and now the QMX+. These kits are small, powerful, and packed with clever design choices. But let me tell you—these rigs are not for the faint of heart. Over the past few months, nearly 20 QRP Labs QMX and QMX+ radios have landed on my workbench for repair. Why so many? Well, these kits aren’t exactly “plug and play.” They demand precision, patience, and, most importantly, the ability to follow the manual to the letter. And yet, that’s part of what makes them so rewarding. Kits That Fight Back (and Why That’s a Good Thing) Let’s be real for a second—assembling a QRP Labs rig isn’t like snapping together LEGO bricks. It’s more like building a Heathkit back in the day, though with a modern twist. For those unfamiliar, Heathkit was the OG of electronics kits. Starting in the 1940s, t...

 If there’s one thing every amateur radio operator learns eventually, it’s this: amplifiers are deceptively tricky little beasts. Sure, the concept sounds simple—take a small signal, make it bigger, and boom, you’re the loudest guy on the band. But in practice? Let’s just say my recent experiments with random MOSFETs, specifically the IRF150, taught me a thing or two about humility… and the importance of keeping a fire extinguisher nearby. The Plan: Build an Amplifier for the QMX The QMX transceiver is a remarkable little rig, but with its modest output, I thought, Why not experiment with an external amplifier? The idea was simple: take a few spare IRF150 MOSFETs (because, hey, I had them lying around) and build something that could boost the QMX’s signal. Now, I know what some of you are thinking: “IRF150s? Those aren’t even RF MOSFETs!” And you’d be right. But I wasn’t aiming for perfection here—I was aiming for fun. Plus, the IRF150 is cheap, readily available, and, well, exp...

 So, this project has not started yet. It will eventually, because it's not actually my switch, it's a friend's. But Netgear haven't told me where the JTAG or UART interfaces are, so maybe after an hour of oscilloscope probing I will be able to gain access to the CFE  (kinda like the BIOS of the switch) after finding UART, which I can then (in theory) use to reinstall a rolled-back firmware or the latest full update. I'm sure he could do it, but I could do it quicker (he softwares to software, I software almost exclusively in Assembly on hardware I make and for the purposes of hacking stuff). Get the hardware hacker in, not the networking guy :) Anyways I'm sure we will post some updates and pictures of this here once we get started with it. Later on December 26:  Doing some research into the CFE, apparently there is (on some models) hidden UART headers. Lovely to know that there may be lethal voltages inside a seemingly innocent blue box... I'm sure its jus...

If you’d asked me a few months ago about the IC-756 sitting on my bench, I’d have told you it was a lost cause. When I got it, the radio had already been through the hands of several amateurs. Each had taken on a handful of minor repairs: fixing loose connections, patching up weak solder joints, or replacing aging components—and clearly spraying all the connectors with so much DeoxIT contact cleaner I’m quite surprised it hadn’t drowned itself. By the time it ended up with me, it was functional on some level but still had a few nagging issues that no one had quite figured out. The most obvious problem was the display. If you’ve ever used an IC-756, you probably know the type—dim, glitchy, and a little frustrating with the layers of the display beginning to delaminate internally, with no way to repair it as an end user. This causes big distracting black lines to appear across the screen, which can make it hard to read. But that wasn’t the worst of it. No matter what I connected to it, e...

It all started with a rescue mission. Our school was getting rid of an old 3D printer—a Da Vinci 1.0a, notorious for its locked-down firmware and overpriced proprietary filament. Someone had tossed it on the metaphorical scrap heap (well, technically the real bin, but close enough). Naturally, I couldn’t let it go to waste. With a bit of cleaning and greasing, the thing was up and running like nothing had happened. Sure, it was still stubborn and limited, but it worked. Pictured: A Da Vinci 1.0A, the machine that weighs a tonne and produces parts that look like a mouse made them with a hot glue gun But I didn’t stop there. I couldn’t stand the restrictive firmware, so I decided to overhaul it completely. I wrote a new firmware from scratch, based on parts of Marlin and Repetier, so it would actually be useful . It was a labour of love—coding, testing, tweaking—made all the more interesting by my choice of soundtrack. Picture this: me at the desk, thinking and typing away, blasting clas...