This post was updated Sept. 24 at 8:18 p.m.
Seeing my friends walk down the Hill, I eagerly ran to meet them.
“We should be able to make it if we run,” I said. We only had 15 minutes before it passed over, only a brief window to listen in.
The group of us jogged down to Boelter Hall and rode the rickety elevator to the ninth floor. A veil of darkness draped the campus as the sun set beneath the horizon, and a blanket of clouds began to roll in. Nevertheless, we screwed together a cheap, yet reliable, dipole antenna atop an old camera tripod. I had plenty of studying to do – it was the week before winter finals – but that could wait; the sky was calling, and I had to listen.
The time had come, and we just managed to set our gear up.
Silence. A faint ringing materialized – a ringing which grew louder and louder, eventually evolving into a discernible pattern.
We got it: an image sent down by a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration weather satellite – a new perspective of our unknowingly boundless home.
What I described is just one of the many adventurous things possible in the realm of amateur, or ham, radio. Practicing the hobby led me to wondrously novel experiences, but it also made me question the motives behind my own daily life.
Ham radio is the use of radio equipment for recreational or emergency purposes. Radio means more than just the music you listen to in your car – it is a complex technology supporting the backbone of all of our communications.
From talking to people across the world to listening in on satellites and astronomical emissions, this hobby takes radio far beyond its popular, musical usage.
My first exposure to ham radio was last winter quarter after reading a hobbyist’s experience decoding imagery from a weather satellite. Thinking it seemed too easy to be true, I purchased the necessary equipment – one $40 radio kit – and took my laptop to the roof of Covel Commons to try it out with a friend.
After some trial and error, we finally received a loud-but-definitive beeping signal that came and went as the satellite flew past. A few minutes of processing later, a grainy, yet clearly distinguishable, image of California with fluffy thick clouds appeared on my screen – my first experience with ham radio was officially a success.
From there, I dove headfirst into the hobby – building antennas, dragging friends to the roof of various campus buildings and looking into getting a license to transmit on the air myself.
Despite my enthusiasm, I had a creeping feeling that I was wasting my time began to come over me. Even though it was intricate, this hobby wasn’t exactly considered productive when compared to focusing on academics.
I could build elaborative antennas and listen in on all the satellites I wanted, but none of that would secure a strong GPA. Even worse, it could take valuable time away from studying.
Conflicted, I decided to get in touch with physics lecturer and former member of the now-defunct Bruin Amateur Radio Club, Brent Corbin.
Corbin, a ham radio enthusiast himself, teaches the introductory physics series, which I was taking at the time. I figured he might be able to help me justify investing time on this extracurricular.
“You don’t really get to keep a hobby, I think, for 47 years, unless you can always find something that’s new and novel about it,” Corbin said. “I always find some aspect of radio that’s new and interesting.”
Corbin’s enthusiasm for the hobby resonated with me. What further interested me was his perspective on how this hobby bridged the gap between what was taught in the classroom and its practical applications, since radio waves play an important role in his physics classes.
Most notably, Corbin exposed the fundamental importance of practical, lived experiences – which helped me realize the importance of pursuing them.
“Throwing an antenna up – there’s what you know on paper about what the proper links are, what will work and what won’t work,” Corbin said. “And then there’s always the surprise of discovering, ‘Wait, that shouldn’t work.’”
In radio, theory will not get you all the way. Something unexpected is bound to pop up, which no amount of radio research can prepare you for. Every project is characterized by more than just concepts and textbook knowledge. That’s what I love about it.
“There’s a theory, but then there’s the magic that will sometimes surprise you,” Corbin said.
I now realize the same is true with life.
No matter how much I learn from class, no matter how proud I am of my grades, what I learn from the classroom will never paint a full picture of living in the real world – there will always be something missing that only lived experience can ever fill.
I spent time this summer reflecting on my personal experiences with hobbies, such as ham radio and others. I had the privilege of spending more time with my family than I ever had. Was that time wasted? Did I not learn something more about the world by being with them?
My life is uncharted territory. What seems to be a useless endeavor may fundamentally change the road I pave. What I learn through intense study provides a useful map, but there is so much more for me to discover.
This upcoming year, I hope to learn more than just what is required to earn an A, even if it may not be productive at first glance.
Whether through ham radio or by spending more time with friends, I hope to prepare myself for a good life, not just a good transcript. After all, studies are supposed to enlighten one’s life – not grind it away.
I urge students – especially incoming freshmen – to reflect on their own goals for this year and tune in to frequencies beyond just one narrowband.
Because – unlike radio – there are no bounds to the spectrum of life.
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