Field Day Journal

Well, here I am. Up at UDXA Field Day, writing what will be posted later to my blog. Hello.

For those who are unaware as to what Field Day is, it’s camping, plus old men, plus an amateur radio competition. We came up on Thursday evening (after taking the wrong turn, wandering around, turning around to Fairview to get cell reception, getting directions, and coming back again), and set up our tent and cots and whatever else. The tent, unfortunately, was a tad more difficult than years past, because last year we came there was terrible, terrible wind and rain (we actually got stuck in the mud on the way up that year, we had to have two trucks/Jeeps come tow us out. Took us several hours. Quite lovely.), and we had apparently not dried off our springbar adequately; needless to say, we spent about fifteen minutes pounding at it with a mallet, chiseling away the cemented mud with stakes, shoving in sticks in an attempt to force it out… You get the point. In the end, everything worked out just fine, we got the tent up with no other problems, and here I sit, in the tent.

I say this every year, and I say it again; food never tastes better than when you’re camping. I believe this is due to a plethora of factors such as physical exertion, the simplistic nature of said food, etc. Whatever the reason, after setting up the Camp Chef, we heated up your ordinary can of stew and feasted as though we were dining at a five star restaurant. Aside from actual meals, daddy and I always bring snacks, a few of which have become staples to our Field Day experience. (Ding Dongs, soda, chips, etc.) We had stew and rolls for dinner last night, pancakes and sausage for breakfast this morning, and daddy had some taco soup for lunch (I wasn’t hungry, and took a nap instead).

I tend to do an awful lot of sleeping up at Field Day. I don’t believe anything provokes sleep better than the sound of wind through leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. This is why I come; it’s my one camping trip every year, it’s my vacation from the outside world during which I have no social or academic concerns, it’s the time I sit in silence and read, write, draw, photograph, observe, think. It may come as a slight shock to you, but I’ve been immensely stressed as of late with the transition into college, etc, and I’m very grateful for this break during which I can sit and observe the immense groves of aspen trees, tiny forests composed of streaking white and green.

I suppose, however, this year will be a bit different; as some of you may know, I am a licensed amateur radio technician; my call is KF7NNJ, and I’ve probably used it all of five or ten times. However, dad wanted me to operate this year, and as I’m now licensed, I’m likely not the best for the GOTA (Get on the Air) station, which is for those who are new to the hobby, or are not licensed. I’ve been scheduled a shift on one of the stations this year, so we’ll see how this goes and how many contacts I can manage. (Last year I got twenty-five in about thirty minutes, which is pretty stinking good considering it was my first time on the air.) They like to have women operate, because the hobby is basically comprised of grumbling old men, and a woman’s voice cuts right through and people jump to make the contact. I am obviously new at this, and as such will probably get a crappy shift at one in the morning or sommat. We’ll see.

Dad is currently ranting about the bee that quite enjoys the safety of our tent, and has dubbed it “The Dumble Bee. Because it’s dumb.” Thought you ought to know.

One thing I have decided upon; I have a much greater respect for Pocahontas. Why? NO. TOILETS. Before the truck with the port-a-potties came up, we had quite lovely trees at our disposal, and I’ve come to the conclusion that this simply WAS NOT MEANT FOR WOMEN. A man can whip it out, aim and shoot (pardon the imagery), but women… Are kind of at the mercy of what they’re desperately trying to expel. Luckily, the truck came this morning; I have never been so happy to see a port-a-potty in my life. And they’re blue, which means I can pretend I’m in the TARDIS. Cough. Anyway, enough on that subject. I commend you for sticking with me for this long, honestly.

Other random comments with no basic structure? My lips are chapped. Cots are a gift from God. It confuses me that several old men are getting four bars of service while I have none. We are idiots and forgot flash lights. Luckily, daddy’s CERT bags had some sort of light which can be connected to the generator. Our tent is right next to a horizontally strung log which was previously used to bleed deer. I’ve very sad because it’s so dry that we aren’t allowed to have camp fires. I will just make smores with cold marshmallows because I like chocolate.  There is a bee in our tent which is quite harmless, but daddy likes to yell at it nevertheless. I have yet to go adventuring in the aspens as I usually do.

I always hated stream of consciousness writing. Why am I inserting it into my own blog? Nasty. Ah well, I suppose I’ll have more on which to report later. 

Friday, June 22, 2012, 4:03 PM.

Well. I’m sitting here, next to the growling generator, charging the battery on my netbook so I can blog. Pre-blog, I suppose. Every time I use this thing and dad’s not here, I feel like I’m going to blow something up, so I try not to; not to mention the blaring noise it emits while generating electricity. However, I feel alright about doing so now, because most people are up socializing amongst themselves, as the potluck dinner has just finished. In my case, anyhow, I’m done eating and came back to the tent for lack of anyone to converse with (and I mean actual conversation, not small talk with the wives of ham operators), and a general wish to have my vacation to myself.

Can I just mention how odd it is to be a young woman up in a camp full of mechanically savvy old men? Everywhere I go, men old enough to  be my grandfather make silly jokes as to how I’m keeping my father alive with my young, quick-witted mind, and how I haven’t gotten tired of them yet. Not that I mind, of course; you all likely know by now that I’d rather spend time with mature, experienced company rather than those my own age. Speaking of which! It would seem one of the new families brought up their teenage daughter this year; I have yet to speak to her, but I hear her name is Emily. Perhaps this will provide some bit of amusement tomorrow, should she and I meet whilst our fathers are operating. I am a tad hesitant, however, because I discovered that her mother is the one walking about in a hot pink jumpsuit, flaunting her Pepto-pink ensemble from head to toe. #judging #ofcourseI’mnotjudging #Ineverjudge

In other news, I drew a Dalek. It is, in my mind, the new mascot for UDXA. *head-canon assimilating* I drew him saying “COMMUNICATE!” rather than the usual Dalek cry of “EXTERMINATE!” next to a sadly drawn tower/antenna. It also says “UDXA IS SUPERIOR” and has wibbley wobbley radio waves.

I am obviously under stimulated.

One thing that is slightly disappointing is the sight of our recently acquired neighbors. As you’ve read, I come here as an escape from civilization, society included. Our camp sits on the top of a hill, and is surrounded by lovely aspen trees; I always ask that we set our personal camp on the other side of this fence of trees, as to ensure the silence and solitude I crave. Yesterday we did so, even venturing out farther than usual in a little enclosure of trees, and I was quite satisfied with our efforts. However, I came out of my little sanctuary for lunch today, and what do I see? At least five families, surrounding our tent, affectively blocking the view of the hills, trees, and sunset. Not that I can really complain about where people decide to camp, but it would seem we have set an unwanted trend here, and people followed us, making our silent sanctuary into a crowded camp. I like to go about in the trees and take pictures, and I’ll feel slightly odd as I do so this year, as though I’m being watched. Ah well, I suppose these things happen.

Per usual, I’ve done a lot of reading thus far. I’m in the middle of The Return of Sherlock Holmes, the collected works of William Shakespeare, The Invisible Man, and I have just completed some fairy tales by Oscar Wilde. Oh, I do love to read Wilde while in nature; it’s so lovely, being filled with his Romantic imagery, being surrounded by trees and (usually) solitude. I love his fairy tales for being beautiful, of course, but also having a dark undertone, as well as being overarchingly allegorical. It’s interesting how his fairy tales, something usually beautiful with a happy conclusion, become stories revealing us to ourselves as Remarkable Rockets, or the young Student who neglects the Nightingale’s sacrifice. Even, at times, becoming religious and showing to us the young persecuted boy to whom we allow passage into our beautiful gardens, later to find wounds in his hands and feet. If you have not yet read the works of Sir Wilde, I do beg that you do so; he is very much my favorite author, and I quite believe he is the most kindred spirit to my own as I have yet stumbled across in my eighteen years of life.  Not to mention, his works are often quite humorous, such as is shown in The Importance of Being Ernest, An Ideal Husband, and, my favorite, The Canterville Ghost. His satire and paradoxical ideas are quite amusing, now matter your age or status.

Our friend, the Dumblebee, has stumbled into our tent once again. And just when he finally found his way out. Tragic.

It has become quite chilly outside; perhaps I ought to unroll my pant legs and find a jacket… Though, I must say, the weather on this trip has been quite lovely! We’re usually dying of heat, getting stuck in the mud, or all but freezing to death in our sleep. This year, however, it has been quite a nice temperature; a pleasant sun warming the hills as a light breeze runs through. I quite appreciate it, as does my sleep schedule. Or lack thereof. But you know.

And Microsoft Word, stop correcting me; I WILL USE AN OXFORD COMMA, AND YOU CAN’T TALK ME OUT OF IT.

Another way I’ve been keeping myself busy is a light review of my Asian languages; my intent was to focus on Japanese as I’m going to be there in a week, but due to the general methods of the text book I’m borrowing from Hana, I’ve been frustrated into do more in Chinese than anything else. It’s not the order of it or anything, they just have a ridiculous Romanization; and yes, I know, I’m not exactly a professor on the subject or anything, but it just doesn’t make sense! It took me a few minutes to figure out little things like “ti” is “chi,” “zya” is “ja,” “tu” is “tsu,” and so on. It’s all in the way you first learn, I guess, but the entire thing would just be made so much easier if it was written in hiragana. I don’t know, I just… Honestly feel as though listening to someone speaking would be a much better review, and as such my small studies of words I’ve forgotten/haven’t yet learned will have to wait until I either have internet connection, or access to someone fluent in the language. Anywho, I have been going through the Chinese text book Jason’s letting me borrow (incidentally, the same text book we used in class), and brushing up on my characters; it’s frustrating how much one forgets during the summer. I’ll probably brush up on my Hangeul this evening, as I haven’t studied it since last summer. All I remember at this point is how to write some things (such as my name) that Yuri taught me, and the words that are common enough for me to remember while watching Korean dramas. Ooooh, I’m such a bad student, haha. I can at least say some basic sentences in Chinese, and hold a simple conversation in Japanese, but Korean… Another story entirely, haha.

Goodness, it is chilly now! I’m definitely getting my jacket and some socks.

I don’t even want to know what I look like right now. I’m sure I’ve got residual makeup smeared across my face and my hair is likely somewhat reminiscent of a hedgehog. And not the cool kind with a jumper and a bottle of jam, either. Goodness, I miss Tumblr, haha.

Well, I suppose I’m off to do some needlework. Let’s hope my grimy fingers don’t smudge it with dirt.

Friday, June 22, 2012, 8:17 PM.

Hello again! I’ve just been out to take some pictures of the trees surrounding our tent; it’s quite sad, some of the things I took pictures of last year are gone (some trees, etc). But we had an addition this year; behind our tent, as usual, was the log strung up to some trees horizontally, in what was apparently there to hang and bleed deer after they’ve been shot. This has been there as long as we’ve been coming to this spot, however this year there was a group of them, all strung in little boxes atop one another, in what my father said looked almost like the beginnings of a tree house. Obviously, it wasn’t the base for a tree house. Some of the more hunting savvy men in the group informed my father that it’s there as a sort of perch for hunters, so one might watch and shoot from a higher point.

I naturally wandered over to investigate and photograph the strange setup (which, at the time, I wasn’t aware was placed for hunting), and I really enjoyed looking around. It probably wouldn’t have been half as amusing had I known its purpose; wondering why it was there, who constructed it, what sorts of people had strung the wood in such a form.  It was all quite eerie and adventurous, as one of the smaller branches had come loose, and was dangling helplessly; a light breeze pulsed through, and the plastic looking rope squeaked against the branches. Honestly, the first time I heard it, it scared the crap out of me, haha. Another interesting note, all of the pieces of the construction were placed perpendicular to one another, which created the small building-like feel in the first place. However, there is one, very long branch that is tied in on one end, and left on the ground on the other; one big streak running diagonally throughout the grid-like form. I can’t help but wonder what it’s for, if it was intentional, etc. The only sign of the men who had erected the small grid was a single, empty bottle of Gatorade laying, half buried, in the dirt.

After my adventure with the hunting post, here I sit now, in the comfort of our tent, listening to my father’s even breaths as he drifts into sleep. I figured I should document my day, just in case somebody somewhere actually cares. Hello, somebody!

Well, what else has happened today… Nothing really happened this morning, as I slept through breakfast; my poor father. I woke up and wandered over to the main camp, where a congregation of men was encircling a stark lack of the usual camp fire due to the dry weather. I made a visit to the TARDIS, then sat with my father and his associates, reading one of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson. I soon realized my stomach was angrily, and quite audibly, protesting its lack of nutrient, and suggested to dad that we head down for lunch. We had planned for today some simple sandwiches, and this is what I had in mind, obviously. We reached the tent, and dad asked, rather spontaneously,  if I would like to ride down to Fairview and get a burger instead. I consented, and we made a list of things we should buy whilst in (what one would graciously call a) town. We needed more ice for the cooler, some sunscreen, and, upon request, a raspberry milkshake for Bob, thin, not thick. We did so, and I shall spare you my rant of the girls around my age in short shorts with blaring orange tans.

Speaking of tans, I’ve been walking about with my pants rolled up to my knees, because my friends always heckle me about the pale skin thereon. I doubt it will do much, as, no matter how much my shoulders and arms tan, my legs never seem to. Ah, well. It’s cooler in the hot sun.

I’ve been informed that my shift to operate is at two in the morning, due to my lack of experience. How lovely. Another interesting note; the schedule is posted outside one of the tents, and everyone’s listed under their call signs. As you know, I have one (KF7NNJ), but it would seem that whoever was in charge of said schedule was unaware as to the NNJ, and as such, I am listed on the 2-3:00AM shift, as “GIRL VOSS.”

Interesting.

Saturday, June 23, 2012. 4:36 PM.

The sun is slightly fogged over by some light clouds, and the little circle in the center is blood red. It’s brilliant! I took a picture, but who knows how it’ll turn out on a little digital.

I’m sitting in one of our operating tents, dad’s shift obviously, charging my laptop and the camera because we’ve donated our generator last minute, as well as to visit daddy after a trip to the TARDIS. Field Day is quite a bit smaller this year, speculation deduces this is due to the club’s victory at placing first last year; a lot of the old timers have completed their goal, and are just… Done. It’s a bit odd in my eyes, we only have three small stations, and one of the antennas is quite small, but apparently this is still a lot better than a lot of people. I always wondered why it was called “Field Day,” when we’re out here with a million generators and computers, but apparently it’s meant to be something where you compete with what you have (hence the rule that you can only start set up 24 hours before competition starts), and that a lot of people operate from a park or school; I suppose these people in Utah are just very into it.

Random thought: Why in the name of Cumberbatch does a water bottle have an expiration date?

Dad’s shift only has about fifteen minutes to go, so I do hope my things charge quickly; it would be slightly awkward to be in here, typing randomly, as some guy sits in here operating. I doubt they would much appreciate it either… I suppose I ought to go start dinner soon. We’re having alfredo tonight (BECAUSE ALFREDO IS THE BEST THING EVEEEEEEEEER.)

Alrighty, then. Good day.

Saturday, June 23, 2012. 7:47 PM.

Well, hello there. I just finished my shift; holy crap, your mouth dries out really quickly when using the “K” sound a lot. We are Kilo 7 Uniform Mike (K7UM) at 3A UT. Pretty sure that will be engrained into my mind for the rest of my life. Or at least a few days. You know.

It’s interesting; I would never be able to get into it the way dad has, but once a year, it’s cool. We went in and first heard this Japanese guy who was very talkative named Ken-san (he made sure to tell everyone which bands he frequents, and at which times), and it made me so happy to listen to his Engrish. Unfortunately, people kept talking over us, so we never got him, but I ended up averaging about twenty to thirty per hour; not the best, obviously, but considering I’m new at this and it was four in the morning? Pretty good, I’d say. For some reason, Texas was coming in a lot, haha. Lots of Southern accents. Also, I think due to the time of night, I kept blanking and forgetting what I was doing and had to stare at the little paper with our call sign, haha. Our Field Day call is K7UM, and daddy’s old call sign was KE7FBY, and after the Kilo came out, the Echo just automatically came out. DOH.

Ah, well. I think I did pretty well, for me. For four in the morning.

Oh my gosh. It’s bleedin’ 4:48 AM. My shift started at three. Alsdkfj;asldkjaflk

Well, in other news, we saw the international space station today! I got a picture, but we’ll see if it’s visible when I get it onto the computer and whatnot. It was cool to see, though. Also, the red sun? I guess those weren’t clouds; that was smoke. It’s pretty obvious now, now that there’s a giant wall of smoke billowing up from a red light over the valley somewhere; it looks like some sort of wild fire, and there is a lot of smoke.  I heard about the fire in… What, Saratoga Springs? Anyway, that one, and I heard they had to evacuate over nine thousand people, but this looks like it’s in Fairview or something. It is really, really dry out there. I guess that would be why I didn’t get any smores, haha. I’m just hoping everyone’s okay down there, and that the wind is helping more than hurting. (For a while there, we were worried it was going to come over the hill and we’d all have to take what we could and drive off in the middle of the night. It’s calmed down a bit since then.)

Anyway. Daddy’s got another hour to go on his shift, and then we sleep for a couple hours; after that, we pack up, eat some food, take down the towers, and leave. In theory.

Goodnight, everyone. It’s bloody five in the morning. I am going to bed.

Sunday, June 24, 2012. 4:55 AM