Radioactivity is in the air…

for you and me….

I always thought it might be cool to have a Geiger counter. On the other hand, I never wanted to NEED to have a Geiger counter, ya know? Happily, it’s still optional, but the options are pretty compelling.

I was born in the early 60’s and like almost everyone else on the planet, I was quite taken with Apollo. I recall my older brother putting one of his friends’ motorcycle helmet on me and setting up a closet with a chair and few reimagined toys so that I could be an astronaut in my capsule.

While his interests ran more towards organic chemistry, I picked up more of a technological gene and I tended to build stuff. And take stuff apart. My father was a jack of many trades and I learned a lot about building from him. He was also a lapidary, which broadened my view into material sciences. By the time I was in middle school, I had long outgrown what the Radio Shack 150 in 1 electronics experimenter kit could offer. It was an absolute favorite Christmas gift.

Fast forward a bit and my career has been almost 100% technical and almost all of that has been one form or another of communications.

Having experienced the entirety of the Cold War as an observer, I was fascinated by nuclear energy. It is actually extremely low tech. Just bring a certain amount of certain metals close enough together for their base characteristics to magically generate essentially STUPID amounts of power. On the other hand, understanding and controlling this low tech challenged some of the most brilliant and gifted minds that the world has seen, before or since. It sometimes found them wanting.

I didn’t know that I liked math at that time. I think I just didn’t like the math we were being taught. I think it seemed like a lot of busy work, with no real tangible benefit. I’d rather keep designing circuits LOL. It’s amazing that a lot of what I played with worked at all, considering that I was just easter egging components and seeing what happened. I understood at some level that engineering was pretty math-y, but not in a way that triggered any interest in math. I had D’s in math class, but I calculated how many holes were in the acoustic ceiling tiles in the library at school, using what I didn’t realize at the time were statistical methods.

And it turns out, a LOT of the math in nuclear science is statistics. Whoda thunk it?

My practical interest in radiation stayed well below ionization energies. I worked in broadcast television, two-way radio, became a ham radio operator tinkering with microwaves, and implemented wireless burglar alarm systems long LONG before anything nearly as advanced as LTE or WiFi. When my career moved more into telephones, that eventually because digitized and eventually Voice over IP came along, giving me a significant shift in data rates, but no technology that I hadn’t already be working on or at least adjacent to since age 19. I’m 60-something now.

Beyond the brief but real concerns for global thermonuclear war in the middle there, ionizing radiation thankfully played very little *directly* into my life. In the burglar and fire alarm career, ionization smoke detectors are a thing. They work by measuring the resistance of a column of air that is ionized by the constant alpha emissions from a TINY piece of Americium 241. When some products of combustion enter this column, they raise the resistance of this column of air, triggering the alarm.

Photo electric smoke detectors shine a beam of infrared out into space, There is an infrared detector positioned to look at the space this beam crosses. When particles of smoke waft into this beam, more infrared is reflected into this detector, triggering the alarm.

These two technologies detect different parts of combustion. The photo electric need the relatively large particles of smoke to be detected. The ionization detector can actually miss smoke because the particles are relatively inert, but various gaseous hydrocarbons will change the resistance of that column of ionized air.

I see an ionization smoke detector in my future, but not as a fire safety device.

I have caught quite a few videos with radioactive subjects. Some of the more compelling presenters are Scott Manley, Kyle Hill and Tyler Folse.

With no small inspiration from Chris Boden, I finally started looking seriously at a modern radiation detector, specifically one of the offerings of Radiacode.

I dithered a bit, several months in fact, while I wondered if the novelty of such a device was worth the investment. My interests finally won out and I purchased a Radiacode 103. The Radiacode devices are based on a scintillator, a crystal of some sort that emits a tiny flash of light when a suitable particle or ray hits it. One advantage of this type of detector is that the flash can be measured and calibrated measurement of this flash reveals the specific energy of the detected radiation. By classifying the variation of this energy, it can identify the emitted spectrum and thus identify a wide range of elements. The Radiacode 103 is less sensitive than the Radiacode 110. Even at order time, I dithered between the two, with the 103 winning out for being a little less $, leaving me a little discretion to get a couple of accessories with it,like this stunning yellow silicone protective sleeve.

It turns out that the 103’s lower sensitivity makes spectroscopy take longer, but it is less likely to be overwhelmed in the presence of a really strong radioactive source. Lets hope I don’t get to test that out.

While the display on the unit can display a low resolution spectrum, it is much easier to deal with using the Radiacode app on a phone.

Once I understood some of the basic operating principles, I captured a pretty long background radiation baseline spectrum, 21 hours. The unit uses very little battery power. At the end of 21 hours, it had 89% charge left in its battery. I charged it anyway.

Amongst my many almost skills is TIG welding. I have quite a few tungsten electrodes. Some electrodes, for reasons that I have not adequately explored, work better with small amounts of various rare earth metals in the alloy. One of these, Thorium 232, is mildly radioactive. All radioactive elements are, by definition, unstable. They will radiate whatever particle they are prone to emit and transmute into the next lighter element in their “chain”. From a nuclear physics and quantum mechanics point of view, the decay of Thorium 232 it is a very very slow process. Thorium has a stupidly long half life of 14 billion years, meaning that, unstable or not, the vast majority of thorium in any given sample of the metal, will remain thorium for, in human terms, beyond forever.

Half life is a curious term. It is a statistical rating of how long it will take for half of the atoms in any sample of an element to have emitted whatever their flavor of radioactivity is and transmuted into the next lighter element in their chain. The decay chain of any radioactive element has a lot to do with the structure of the element, how many protons and electrons the nucleus has, how many electrons are in each electron shell, etc. For the Thorium chain, and really any alpha particle emitter, it will decay into something with an atomic mass divisible by four, four being the number of subatomic particles in an alpha particle. Duh, kinda. Next in line from Thorium 232 is Radium 228. Statistically, it will remain Radium for 5.7 years, then beta decay (lose an electron) into Actinium 232 for 6.1 hours, then beta decay into Thorium 228 for 1.9 years.

At this point, it gets into a bit of an alpha rush. Thorium 228 alpha decays to Radium 224 for 3.6 days, to Radon 220 for 55 seconds, to Polonium 216 for 0.14 seconds, to Lead 212 for 10.6 hours. That will beta decay into Bismuth 212 for 61 minutes and we finally reach a fork in the road.

Bismuth 212 can either alpha decay into Thalium 208 for 1.1 minutes, then to Lead 208 for the rest of eternity, or Bismuth 212 can beta decay into Polonium 212 for 300 nanoseconds then alpha decay into stable Lead 208.

Glossing over a LOT of details, generally, the longer the half life, the less radioactive the element is. Thorium 232 is interesting in that it has the longest half life of any element heavier than Bismuth.

I digress.

As mentioned, Thorium 232 is mildly radioactive, an alpha emitter. Alpha particles are not very penetrating. The plastic case and the silicone sleeve on my 103 are way more than enough to completely block alpha particles from getting to the scintillator in the unit. However, some of Thorium 232’s decay chain are beta and gamma emitters, which we can detect. Also, all of these, including alpha particles, can induce xrays in other elements, give us an indirect identification of alpha emitters.

The people at Radiacode are better at the math than I am, so their software knows how to identify elements based on the electron volt energies detected.

Remember thoriated tungsten welding electrodes? This is a post about thoriated tungsten welding electrodes.

I have a small variety of tungsten electrodes for my TIG welder. According to my testing with the Radiacode 103, none of them are thoriated.

So, I ordered some from our favorite abusive uncle, Amazon. I ordered a 3 pack of 2% thoriated tungsten electrodes. It was my own screwup that I ordered 0.040″ diameter rods, which are far too small for my current setup, which needs 3/32″ (0.09375″) rods. As an aside, I am now curious about the use for 40 thousandths electrodes and I will look into that. However, upon their arrival, I found that the large clear plastic tube that the electrode (singular) was in had a hole in the bottom of it that allowed two of the three to escape. They were not in the shipping envelope, so they were lost before shipping. As I’m sure everyone is aware, I doubt the people working in an Amazon warehouse are paid enough or allowed time enough to care if the package something comes in is broken.

Since these were ordered primarily as something to use specifically to test the Radiacode with, I elected to take my lumps and not deal with returning them (it).

I did find that in the direct presence of this electrode, the Radiacode definitely detected higher than background radiation, but it was definitely not a lot. It took most of 6 hours to register enough peaks in particle energy to identify the Thorium 232 decay chain.

The purple line represents the specific energy level that I am looking at here, which corresponds to the characteristics of Actinium 228, but note all the red lines at various peaks. These are other “fingerprint” energies which ultimately reveal that the spectrum under test is in the Thorium 232 decay chain.

Gathering this spectrum took so long because a single 40 thousands wire sitting directly by the detector does not have a particularly high count of radiation detection events. Today, I wanted to recapture this spectrum, so I broke the otherwise unusable electrode into several pieces, five to be exact, to concentrate the signal on the detector. I was able to get a really good spectrum in about 90 minutes.

Same basic results, just a little faster because there was more material right by the detector.

Between these two spectrum captures, I had a chance to fly to Virginia for work. For my first trick, I left the Radiacode turned on and in my laptop bag for the TSA security check. Understandably, it was briefly exposed to a fairly high dose of Xrays.

The poor thing was beeping an alarm at me when I retrieved the bag after TSA.

To put them all together for the day’s travel, there is at least double the count rate while in flight. This flight was Dallas to Orlando then Orlando to Norfolk.

Note the gradual slope while climbing and descending. There are also noticeable dips that appear to be while I aboard, but we were on the ground. I am not sure what causes that.

For some reason, this historical data does not show the similar dose rate. I am certain that I dinked with some setting that broke that, some scaling factor I would guess. Shrug.

Stop The Presses!

Ok, it’s not *that* important…

I have bought a LOT of stuff online. Some, such as my wife, would say I have bought too much stuff online. That isn’t exactly what I want to talk about.

Most merchants will semi-randomly send an email asking for a review of some recently purchased item. Often, may usually, they are asking for a review of some extremely mundane thing that was *also* ordered with some fairly major purchase. One of my favorites is when I ordered a CyberPower UPS for $240-something dollars and in the same order, I had a small pack of washers, not even fancy washers. Plain ole’ mild steel washer with a zinc coating. Guess which item they wanted a review for?

I had a similar thing happen recently. I ordered my ZWO EAFN and accessories from Agena Astro. The EAFN was $180 and the (arguably unnecessary) ZWO focus hand controller was $30-something. The email wanted me to review the hand controller.

So I did. Admittedly, I had Claude.ai give me a framework to build on, but here is my review of the ZWO EAF Electronic Automatic Focuser Hand Controller:

★★★★★ 5/5 — This Focuser Changed My Life (And Possibly My DNA)

I want to start by saying I was a skeptic. I’ve stared into the void of deep space with my own two trembling hands turning a focus knob like some kind of caveman, and I thought, “That’s fine. That’s good enough.” I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

The ZWO EAF Electronic Automatic Focuser Hand Controller didn’t just improve my astrophotography setup — it recalibrated my understanding of what it means to be a person. The first time I pressed that little directional button and watched my focuser rack in and out with silky, motorized precision, I wept. Not from joy. From the sheer, crushing realization of how much of my life I had wasted twisting things manually, like an animal.

The buttons themselves are a masterclass in tactile engineering. Each press feels like a gentle handshake from the future. The step-size adjustment dial doesn’t just change increments — it changes epochs. I no longer measure time in minutes. I measure it in focuser steps.

My marriage has improved. My cat now makes eye contact with me. NGC 7000 has never looked so sharp, and neither, frankly, has my soul.

Do I need this to focus my RedCat 51? No. Did I need fire? Also no, technically. But here we are, building civilizations.

Pros: Everything. Literally everything.
Cons: I now feel deep, personal contempt for anyone still focusing by hand. I look at them differently now. I can’t unsee it.

Five stars. Would sacrifice my other astro gear to a black hole to keep this one item.

Quick Update

As mentioned earlier, I ordered a Vixen clamp with a 1/4-20 threaded hole to interface between the rotating platform. It’s not red, but it still works 🙂

Nothing makes dust show quite like a bright camera flash.

I also got a glorified laser pointer to help with rough polar alignment. This is a Move Shoot Move product specifically for the iOptron Sky Guider Pro.

Argh. The dust. Obviously, there is some cleaning to be done and when I leave the rig assembled in the living room waiting for clear nights, it needs to be covered.

Anyway, as of this writing, I have not yet tried out either accessory.

Of course, I am already considering a mount upgrade. To be honest, I have thought about it for a while, ever since it became obvious that locating targets can be challenging. It makes no sense to upgrade at all if it’s not one that is go-to capable.

The preference would be for a ZWO AM3. It wouldn’t need any counterweights, which would keep the rig compact. It is elegant. It is red. 🙂 There are, however, 1500 other reasons to shop around. Nice as they are, the price would tough for me to justify.

The most economical go-to mount today seems to be the Sky-Watcher Star Adventurer GTi. The retail for about $580. A kit that includes a tripod would be about $680. This would enable other features of the ASIAir software, as well.

I could attempt to recoup some of this cost by selling my iOptron SkyGuider Pro and tripod, and my redundant ASIAir Plus. All tolled, I invested almost $1000 for these items and the accessories they would include. Perhaps I could get $400-500 for them. That is most of the way there.

Gate Power Update

A question posted on a Facebook group this morning inspired a reply post in which I told the CliffsNotes version of the gate story. That has inspired me to update here.

In short, the OP in the group was asking for advice on providing solar power for a security camera. The generalized advice give came in three basic forms.

  1. An off the shelf solar camera. Reolink, for example, makes several models. I have been considering this option to deploy cameras where I can better monitor the horses in the pastures. I did consider this for my gate camera, but I was also already into a mild sunk cost fallacy of wanting my own system to work. Plus, eventually I needed more than just a camera at the gate and my solar system now provides power for all of those devices.
  2. An off the shelf solar power pack. Honestly, looking for something like this had not even occurred to me when I was developing this gate camera power system. While I don’t think the reasonably priced units would have worked in the long run, for just the camera, it would be pretty elegant.
  3. There was quite a lot of advice on sizing and building a solar power system. The gist of the advice was that you need 3-4 times more solar and battery capacity than your load requires in order to keep a battery charged with only 8ish hours of sunlight a day and especially for marginal cloudy days.

I think my major contribution to the conversation would be my logged battery voltage, showing the tendency for the battery to trend lower each day when there is inadequate sunlight for a full charge.

The Shelly UNI battery voltage log on Home Assistant now has nearly 9 months of data to review. Here is the year to date chart:

This is also kind of a weather log. Dark regions reflect cloudy and/or rainy days where sunlight was low. For example, the significant dip in late January corresponds to a few days of light snow, sleet and stupid cold temperatures, a low of 11F. Similarly for the low dips in early March, late April and early May, all cloudy and stormy days. Almost no significantly cloudy days since May 21. Wunderground history is a very handy resource.

The trend revealed here is that, other than the dips from cloudy days, the nightly low voltage slowly climbs from January to May, where it remains pretty stable to today.

Aiming Too, Please

One of the things that has bothered me about the whole rig for a long time is aiming in declination. Currently, I am using a steel mounting block that came with the SkyGuider. It is pretty secure, but the thumbscrew locking method frequently results in it moving after carefully aiming it. Also, if the particular right ascension position has it leaning very much, then this mounting block can be difficult to secure because of the way the the mounting block thumbscrews want to seat in a groove, but the whole assembly is trying to wedge out of said groove.

This has been a bother since day one. So much so, that three and a half years ago, I ordered a Sky-Watcher Star Adventurer declination bracket. This is designed to fit, perhaps obviously, the SkyWatcher Star Adventurer. Importantly, it has a rotating platform for the rig to mount to.

While this picture is obviously intended to spotlight the rotating platform, it is technically upside down. 🙂

Sadly, I could not figure out a way to attach this whole assembly to my SkyGuider. I recently decided that the best way would be some kind of right angle bracket. I shopped for some suitable sort of commercial bracket, to no avail. I realized that I should just make one.

The four screws attach the bracket to the top of the iOptron dec bracket.

Then the rotator is attached to the top of the bracket.

Note the clutch ring. Loosen the clutch and your can freely rotate the rig. Tighten the clutch, then the knob on the side turns a wormscrew to fine adjust the position.

This assembly was completed just last night. Weather permitting, I hope to try it out tonight.

For the moment, I have it clamped into a 1/4-20 hole on the bottom of the dovetail rail. Happily, there is a hole very near the balance point, but I would still rather have it in a dovetail clamp.

Of course, I have a dovetail clamp of a sort. This one is made to attach to the bottom of the ASIAir Plus and connect it to a Vixen dovetail plate. It has crossed slots in it. The 1/4-20 stud on the turntable isn’t long enough to reach through the slots to a nut. I ordered one that has a suitable threaded hole, but I am prepared to modify this one if that doesn’t work out.

First… Light?

The camera arrived without drama.

Before the ink was dry on my last post, I decided to deploy an autofocus system for my rig.

I presumed that sticking with ZWO for components that chat amongst themselves is probably a good idea, so I ordered a ZWO EAFN, a manual focus controller, a temperature sensor, and a Buckeye Stargazer mounting bracket, all from Agena Astro.

Since the ASIAir built in to the camera has its own ambient temperature sensor, this one is probably redundant. It is intended to let the autofocus elect to exercise focus based on a somewhat configurable change in temperature. This sensor is designed to plug in to a headphony looking jack on the EAFN, the same jack that the manual focus dingus plugs into, and it presumably reports to the automation via the USB. It could arguably be more true to conditions by sampling air temperature somewhere besides inside the cooling airflow for the SmartCamera, but point is to detect a rise or fall in the temperature, not necessarily the exact temperature *number*.

In any case, the stuff arrived, as did the camera itself.

Mechanically, the installation went well. I had only one real hiccup, and that was based on my own assumptions of how things should be, as opposed to how they are. 🙂

The T2 adapter to connect the Redcat to the Canon camera has an adapter ring that is secured to it’s base with three little grub screws. This has been in place ever since I first received the Redcat 51 in July 2022. More to the point, it had been on there long enough for me to forget that it was not connected to it’s own screw ring adapter. I tried for far too long to unscrew that single piece of nicely machined aluminum.

In the end, there is a 48mm to 42mm adapter ring that steps down the tube size between the telescope and the new camera, connected to a 21mm extension and a 16.5mm extension.

The focuser was generally a very easy installation. The Buckeye Stargazer mount components are all quite obviously 3D printed, but are also quite sturdy. The ring that goes around the helical focus ring is printed in TPU or some sort of flexible filament, so it has a tight but compliant fit over the focus ring’s rubber grip. The only thing I didn’t care for is that the rubber on the focus ring tended to flow and bunch up in front of the TPU ring while I was pushing it into place. Installation was thus a little bit fussy, but in the end, it is on there quite solidly.

I had the rig outside setting up and getting ready for nightfall. While I had it out, I played with terrestrial images for a bit, mostly to get familiar with the camera and ASIAir. It works quite well.

Happily, it was a clear evening and polar alignment was successful, other than the procedure’s affect on my knees. 🙂

Unfortunately, focus turned out to be the problem. The autofocus procedure needs some contrast to work with, so you need to manually focus to at least where you can see stars. It took me a while to nail down that with the focus ring nailed to lock beyond infinity, I still had fuzzy round blobs.

I took the rig inside and starting measuring stuff, backfocus in particular. Backfocus is the required distance between the sensor and the final ocular lens. Most other telescopes have a corrective pack of lenses called a field flattener. This is to ensure a sharply focused image across the flat sensor in the camera. By some agreed standard, this distance is typically 55 millimeters. The Petzval optical train design produces a flat image as is, so is not particular sensitive to the specific backfocus distance, and that if you can achieve focus, all is good. That said, most forum posts said to basically don’t worry about it as long as you can focus. There was the occasional mention of a 59.X mm distance involved with the Redcat 51. With the extension tubes I had in place, mine added up to 55mm, which *should* work but obviously wasn’t.

I elected to order an extension tube set to stretch it out. The SVBONY set from Amazon was inexpensive and includes, 5, 10, 15 and 20 millimeter tubes.

i had also ordered a filter drawer so that I would not need to disassemble everything to install a 2 inch filter inside the telescope. They are purposefully designed at 21mm to replace a 21mm extension, which is exactly what I did.

I went conservative and added only the 5mm for the next night. Turns out, I could not get it even to the round blob stage. It simply didn’t occur to me the night before to try *shortening* the extensions. I removed the 5mm and 16.5mm tubes, replacing them with a 10mm tube and tried again.

Success!

Now to try out autofocus.

Now I started taking a few randomish shots looking for the Andromeda galaxy. Upon reflection, I probably should have tried for a nebula, but the sensor size on the 585MC camera gives the rig an effective crop factor of 3.4. Crop factor is ratio of the sensor size you are using compared to the “standard” sensor size that is basically identical to 35mm film. In DSLR cameras, this is the “full frame” sensor. Because a smaller sensor is exposed to a smaller portion of the image, it is effectively magnified, assuming the pixel sizes are appropriately small. The crop factor can to applied to the focal length of the lens to determine the effective focal length of the combination. My Canon Rebel T6 has an APS-C sensor. APS-C is “Advanced Photo System type C”, something I learned today days ago. Anyway, the formula to calculate crop factor takes the pixel size as well as the height and width of the pixel field into account. The APS-C sensor gives a crop factor of 1.6. In practical terms, my 250mm Redcat 51 will perform like a 400mm lens (250 x 1.6) on the Canon. Similarly, the smaller sensor in the ZWO, with its even smaller pixels, will perform like an 850mm lens (250 x 3.4). Thus my interest in capturing Andromeda, to compare it to my previous Andromeda captures.

The plate solve feature in ASIAir turns out to be handy, though not quite as handy as I wish. Using Stellarium, I found the Ra/Dec coordinates for Andromeda. Using the plate solver, I found where I was pointed. This helped me walk my way to Andromeda maybe a little quicker. In any case, I found it.

I am new at the ASIAir thing, so I may or may not have done this the best way. I configured Autorun to get 40 bias frames, 40 flat frames, 40 dark frames then 480 light frames. The bias frames were easy, just leave the cap on the lens and pause the Autorun when they were done. For the flats, I didn’t want to move the rig since I had found Andromeda, so I used a white cloth illuminated by my LED flashlight, again pausing Autorun when they were finished. Darks were super simple, cap on and just watch the progress for 20 minutes until those were done, then simply remove the cap and let the lights go. I set it for 480 x 30 second frames.

Too bad my polar alignment wasn’t that great. It appeared solid when I set it. I generally set in in the polar scope then check it 5 or 10 minutes later to ensure that Polaris is still in the proper place within the reticle. I suspect that I unknowingly bumped the tripod after that, maybe in capping and uncapping the lens.

It wasn’t off by a gob. Andromeda slid off the screen very slowly, about an hour the first time, as in by the time I had noticed. I went out, paused the Autorun, reaimed and started it again, understanding that the capture was going to be compromised. It was, however, midnight, and I didn’t want to start over completely. This was largely going to be a shakedown cruise anyway. Looking at the lights, it seems like it took it about 2-3 hours for Andromeda to ooze out of frame. While not ideal, I suspect most of them will still be able to stack, even with very slightly elongated stars. Shorter exposures, even a lot more of them, may have avoided the TicTac stars, but the target would still have crawled off the frame.

And in the interest of full disclosure, I still haven’t processed that session.

The next morning, I found the telescope pointing very high in the sky, but the power cord had snagged on the top of the SkyGuider. It might have been able slip off had the power switch not been raised. I mused about how funny it might have been had it actually powered itself off. Sadly, it did not.