I think you should start a new thread, TheMoon. This thread is discussing a specific project we've been [intermittently] working on for a couple years.
Moderators, is that do-able?
..Todd
Moderators, is that do-able?
..Todd
Those are the same transformers I was considering using for this project early on.....
TheMoon: Check out posts 126 through 151 in this thread......the primary impedance is a little high and the primary inductance is a little low for a 5-20 KT88 variant. 5-20 EL34 is probably a different story, though.
I shall have another look at the passage of posts you have referenced bw.
I was also considering moving to 6L6GC from the reference EL34's should that prove a more synergistic match with the HW-60-5 .
No worries re moving my inquiry off of this thread if the mods think it more appropriate 🙂
Cheese and crackers!!!!
I guess in a town with a name like "Spuzzum," a restaurant would have to be good! 😀
...Now back to our regularly scheduled program, which is now in progress...
Taj, I'm sorry to bring up a five-month-old quote (OT nonetheless!), but I just couldn't resist. I'm proud to say that I have been to Spuzzum!! In fact I actually stopped there to eat while visiting my cousin in Gold Bridge in May of '87. Don't remember the name of the restaurant, but I do remember it was "The Home of the Sasquatch-Burger"...which I recall being quite tasty!
I guess in a town with a name like "Spuzzum," a restaurant would have to be good! 😀
...Now back to our regularly scheduled program, which is now in progress...
Actually. the fire-ravaged "town" of Spuzzum, has been nothing more than a pile of debris and ashes for many years now. The cafe mentioned above was essentially the center of the "town", and may have been the cause of the fire. (And Taj, I don't live there!)
Next week we'll focus in on Eyebrow, Saskatchewan; another heartland megalopolis that tube amp builders worldwide need to know about (though I'm not sure why).
..Todd
..Todd
I vaguely remember being there too, but it was quite a long time ago. Back in 1970 or so my parents packed the 3 kids and a lot of stuff into a station wagon and set out on a little road trip. We started from Miami, went north, made a left in Montreal and went across the trans Canada highway to Victoria. Took the ferry to Seattle and started home.
I have a few permanent memories from that trip, but like all the pictures many have faded in 40 years.
Holy crap. That's quite a trip. I toured around "the great circle" (North America) 13 times when I was doing live sound in the music biz. But I wouldn't want to do it even once in a station wagon with family.
..Todd
Gee Beav, that is one hell of a road trip! When I was a kid our family would pack up the old 1971 Volkswagen Squareback and drive the fifteen hours to see my grandparents in Florence, Alabama. I recall that journey as an absolute ordeal, and was about at my (and my parents') absolute sanity limit; I'd have probably gone into a catatonic state had my grandparents lived in Vancouver! Yet as much as I hated it then, I jumped at the chance to go with my father on that same journey almost twelve years ago. It turned out to be that last time I saw my father and Grandfather together, and it's become one of my most cherished memories. I'd give almost anything to relive that trip. BTW George, I was saddened to learn of your mother's passing. I didn't learn of that until just recently as I've been MIA on the forum for the past couple of months. I send you my most heartfelt condolences, and my hope that things are getting better otherwise.
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I have vague recollections of driving across the prairies as a child, maybe a good thing I don't remember much.🙂
jeff
I went on the mega road trip not once, but twice. My younger brothers got the pleasure 3 times!!!
The first trip happened while I was still in high school. My mom was rather unhappy with my father (alcohol) so she put the kids (3 boys) in the wagon and took off up the east coast of the US to NYC, then across NY to Niagra Falls before starting back south. Funds were limited so we stayed in campgrounds with a tent. This was a fun trip. The 3 of us had never been past Tennesee before.
My father was rather dissapointed that we had fun, and embarassed when his friends found out that he didn't go with us.
A year or two later he decided to go along on a bigger and better trip. He even promised not to drink. That trip was the go to Montreal and make a left trip. The simple tent became a tow behind pop-up camper. Despite my father's radiant negatism (is that a word) we again had fun. There are still some vivid memories from that one.
We met some kids our age in a campground near Montreal. They spoke no English, we spoke no French, but we had a common bond....firecrackers. They were amazed by the power of "Yankee Firecracker" (M-80's). We stayed there for several days and went to see "Man and his World", which was formerly known as Expo 68 (the 1968 worlds fair). An incident involving my brother, one of the French kids, an outhouse and a Cherry Bomb forced us to leave and head west.
Got to Calgary about a week after the Stampede, so we went on to Banff and Glacier National Park. I remember taking a ride in an ice crawler out on the glacier.
My father was a bomber pilot in WWII and both parents were air traffic controllers after the war, so they had friends with airplanes. One had settled in Victoria BC and flew tourist trips around the island. The little Cessna only held 3 passengers, so there were two trips. I was in the "special ride" We flew over something colorful, I asked what it was, so we went to Butchart Gardens.
The return trip took us to Mount Rushmore. We stayed at a campground nearby where the campsites were not all bunched together. My father found some beer, got loaded and told the 2 of us trouble makers to "go climb the mountain". We took pockets full of firecrackers our Lafayette walkie talkies, and set off around lunch time. We got real lost and it started to get dark. The walkie talkie was useless. My mom figured out that we were pretty far away because she could barely hear our fireworks, but she was smart enough to get some of our bottle rockets and shoot them up in the air so we knew which way to go. We finally made contact on the walkie talkie and found our way back.
That incident ended our fun, no more beer for the old man, and no more wandering off for us. Don't remember much of the rest of the trip.
My parents and my youngest brother set out on a third trip about 2 years later in a conversion van. The wagon had been turned into a hot rod by my brother after its engine blew. I was working at Motorola so I "couldn't get time off".
Thanks. She was not really here for the last couple of years anyway (stroke), and now she is in a better place. At 90 years old and 72 pounds it was not unexpected.
Unfortunately it looks like Sherri's mom will likely leave us this year. She is 71 years old and has been fighting cancer for 4 years. I must go on a short little (2500 mile) road trip in a couple of weeks to move her out of her 90 year old house into a place she can deal with. I should hit the Dayton hamfest on the way back if things go right.
Do you remember their names? Our next door neighbor was a bomber pilot in WWII. I know they kept in touch with other pilots from the States after the war. It's entirely possible they new each other.
jeff
Yes, I remember them well... (214 smilies - and not one for a wistful expression!) My dad would have stripped the hide from my glutes if he'd found M-80's in my room, so I did the next best thing - go visit my friend down the street who had scads of those things. We found that if you fastened a stone to make it sink (they had waterproof fuses), an M-80 would literally blow a hole in the bottom of a heavy galvanized horse trough. We also found out there isn't enough silicone adhesive made to fix that hole, either! 😀 Those were the days.
I used to go to the beach with his family each summer, and during the trip down we always got to sit in the back of their old Ford "Country Squire" station wagon. We'd make little 'grenades' by sticking hundreds of Ohio blue-tip matches into apples, potatoes, (or whatever we could find out of the week's groceries) until they looked like porcupines. We'd wait until some hapless sucker started to tailgate - my friend's dad was a notoriously slow driver - then lob 'em out of the open tailgate window. They'd crap their pants almost every time!
My visit to British Columbia was quite memorable. My cousin and her husband ran a horse farm in the Coastal mountain range, near Gold Bridge. Absolutely gorgeous country!! Until I went there I had never gone a week without seeing asphalt pavement, I'd never drunk straight from a flowing stream (at least without getting a disease), and had never had a snowball fight in 70 degree weather. I'd also never seen a real ghost town (Bralorne - "In Gold We Trust"), smoked 'Export A' cigarettes or rolled my own from Drum tobacco (yeah, I used to smoke a long, long time ago in a galaxy far away...), nor had I had gin & tonics every day at 4:00 pm sharp (I was 19 at the time, which was the legal age).
George, it's a good thing we didn't grow up in the same neighborhood, 'cause if your posts in other threads are any indication we'd have stayed in trouble!
Hey, wasn't this thread about the Mullard circuit?
My father was a B-17 tail gunner in WWII. I have a small box of his war stuff with his squadron, bomb group, etc written down around here somewhere, along with a list of his missions neatly typed on crumbling onion paper that he kept in his wallet.
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About fifteen years ago I moved back to a small town in NC to look after my grandmother's house. The house across the street belonged to the family of one of my grandmother's good friends, but was sort of in a state of "arrested decay" for some reason or other for several years after her death. Every couple of weeks or so her I'd chat with her nephew (who was my kindergarten teacher's husband - yeah, we all knew each other) as he cut the grass and did a few light chores about the place.
Fast-forward about four years to Thanksgiving of '99. My wife and I were watching the news at my parent's house about this old fellow in Red Springs who had had a heart attack and died while flying his ultralight. Before I could even give a puzzled look my mother said, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you - that was Mr. McConnaughey!" - the same guy I used speak to while he cut the grass. Turns out that he used to fly P-38's in the Pacific theater during the war, and remained an active pilot for many years afterward. He died doing what he loved.
Years later I told that story to my aunt (she's 92 now), and said that I'd have liked to have known more about his experiences - and had I known he was a pilot I'd have certainly asked him (out of respect, of course). She replied that most of those who had seen heavy action really didn't want to talk much about it; in fact, most found it quite hard to live with what they'd seen. She should know: her husband was among the first soldiers to liberate the Nazi concentration camps during the last days of the war. He spent the rest of his life trying to forget - and couldn't.
People of that generation are - and always will be - my heroes.
Fast-forward about four years to Thanksgiving of '99. My wife and I were watching the news at my parent's house about this old fellow in Red Springs who had had a heart attack and died while flying his ultralight. Before I could even give a puzzled look my mother said, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you - that was Mr. McConnaughey!" - the same guy I used speak to while he cut the grass. Turns out that he used to fly P-38's in the Pacific theater during the war, and remained an active pilot for many years afterward. He died doing what he loved.
Years later I told that story to my aunt (she's 92 now), and said that I'd have liked to have known more about his experiences - and had I known he was a pilot I'd have certainly asked him (out of respect, of course). She replied that most of those who had seen heavy action really didn't want to talk much about it; in fact, most found it quite hard to live with what they'd seen. She should know: her husband was among the first soldiers to liberate the Nazi concentration camps during the last days of the war. He spent the rest of his life trying to forget - and couldn't.
People of that generation are - and always will be - my heroes.
i watched the history of the WW2 air campaign over germany on the history channel.....the us lost a lot of men in the 8th air force......they were indeed real heroes....
I have no idea of the name of the Canadian tourist pilot that flew me around Victoria. I do remember that the plane was a Cessna, possibly a 172. That was 40 years ago! Its doub
It has been my experience that people who came back from Viet Nam bragging of their exploits never saw any real action, and those who did, didn't talk about it.
My father was troubled for years with the knowledge of all the death he must have caused. Probably contributed to the alcohol abuse. He was not a generally happy person and quite paranoid. He was also a serious McCarthyist, who believed that me and many of my friends were COMMIES! We never got along well. For most of my high school years we just avoided each other leading up to two years of not speaking to each other.
He didn't talk about the war, and didn't talk to me much anyway, so what I know I learned from my brothers after his death. We were cleaning out his house and found some of his war stuff and newspaper clippings of the MIA and rescue. That led to a discussion about WWII, and a lot of stuff I never knew.
His name was Thomas M Anderson. He was a pilot or copilot (he did both), flying a B24 or B25 (I don't remember) in the Pacific theater. I know he was shot down twice and MIA for several months before being rescued. They were flying fire bombing missions over Japan. After the war he refused to fly a plane for a living and became an air traffic controller at MIA.
My mother Mary Virginia Couch was the female voice of the MIA control tower during and after WWII. She knew most of the pilots that regularly flew into MIA. She met my father on the job, married in 1949 and retired when I was born in 1952. We used to visit the tower when we were young kids and watch the planes land. She would still talk to pilots she knew over the tower radio. Such stuff was common then, makes the national news today!
I can barely remember being in the tower. I probably was about 5 years old. Even then I think that would be frowned on!
Choke Cathode Feedback (25VCT), How do effect Tube Output Power.
Please recommend The Choke Cathode Feedback (25VCT) ,How do effect Tube Output Power.
Can be modified to use 6x KT88!?!
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The Cathode Resistor 10Ohms =? W!!! 😕
Please recommend The Choke Cathode Feedback (25VCT) ,How do effect Tube Output Power.
Can be modified to use 6x KT88!?!
The Cathode Resistor 10Ohms =? W!!! 😕