If you’re planning on working satellites or doing any sort of RF work where the signal lives down in the dirt, you’re going to need a low-noise amplifier. That’s typically not a problem, as the market is littered with dozens of cheap options that can be delivered in a day or two — you just pay your money and get to work. But is there a case to be made for rolling your own LNA?

[Salil, aka Nuclearrambo] thinks so, and he did a nice job showing us how it’s done. The first step, as always, is to define your specs, which for [Salil] were pretty modest: a low noise figure, moderate gain, and good linearity. He also wanted a bandpass filter for the 2-meter amateur radio band and for weather satellite downlinks, and a bias-tee to power the LNA over the coax feedline. The blog post has a detailed discussion of the electrical design, plus some good tips on PCB design for RF applications. We also found the discussion on bias-tee design helpful, especially for anyone who has ever struggled with the idea that RF and DC can get along together on a single piece of coax. Part 2 concentrates on testing the LNA, mostly using hobbyist-grade test gear like the NanoVNA and tiny SA spectrum analyzer. [Salil]’s tests showed the LNA lived up to the design specs and more, making it more than ready to put to work with an RTL-SDR.

Was this more work than buying an LNA? Absolutely, and probably with the same results. But then again, what’s to learn by just getting a pre-built module in the mail?

If you’ve ever wondered what goes on in the ground facilities of a satellite TV operation, you could go banging on the doors or your local station. You’d probably get thrown out in short order. Alternatively, you could watch this neat little tour from [saveitforparts].

The tour takes us through a ground facility operated by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and Radio Canada in Montreal. The facility in question largely handles CBC’s French language content for the Canadian audience. We’re treated to a look at the big satellite dishes on the roof, as well as the command center inside. Wall to wall screens and control panels are the order of the day, managing uplinks and downlinks and ensuring content gets where it needs to go. Particularly interesting is the look at the hardcore hardware for full-strength transmission to satellites. The video also includes some neat trivia, like how CBC was the first broadcaster to offer direct satellite TV to customers in 1978.

We’ve seen [saveitforparts] tackle some interesting satellite hardware teardowns before, too.

As hackers, we’re always pulling stuff apart—sometimes just to see what it’s like inside. Most of us have seen the inside of a computer, television, and phone. These are all common items that we come into contact with every day. Fewer of us have dived inside real spacey satellite hardware, if only for the lack of opportunity. Some good gear has landed on [Don]’s desk over the years though, so he got to pulling it apart and peering inside.

[Don] starts us off with a gorgeous… box… of some sort from Hughes Aircraft. He believes it to be from their Space & Communications group, and it seems to have something to do with satellite communications work. Externally, he gleans that it takes power and data hookups and outputs RF to, something… but he’s not entirely sure. Inside, we get a look at the old 90s electronics — lots of through hole, lots of big chunky components, and plenty of gold plating. [Don] breaks down the circuitry into various chunks and tries to make sense of it, determining that it’s got some high frequency RF generators in the 20 to 40 GHz range.

Scroll through the rest of [Don]’s thread and you’ll find more gems. He pulls apart a microwave transmitter from Space Micro — a much newer unit built somewhere around 2008-2011. Then he dives into a mysterious I/O board from Broad Reach, and a very old Hughes travelling wave tube from the 1970s. The latter even has a loose link to the Ford Motor Company, believe it or not.

Even if you don’t know precisely what you’re looking at, it’s still supremely interesting stuff—and all very satellite-y. We’ve seen some other neat satellite gear pulled apart before, too. Meanwhile, if you’ve been doing your own neat teardowns, don’t hesitate to let us know!

There was movement in the “AM Radio in Every Vehicle Act” last week, with the bill advancing out of the US House of Representatives Energy and Commerce Committee and heading to a full floor vote. For those not playing along at home, auto manufacturers have been making moves toward deleting AM radios from cars because they’re too sensitive to all the RF interference generated by modern vehicles. The trouble with that is that the government has spent a lot of effort on making AM broadcasters the centerpiece of a robust and survivable emergency communications system that reaches 90% of the US population.

The bill would require cars and trucks manufactured or sold in the US to be equipped to receive AM broadcasts without further fees or subscriptions, and seems to enjoy bipartisan support in both the House and the Senate. Critics of the bill will likely point out that while the AM broadcast system is a fantastic resource for emergency communications, if nobody is listening to it when an event happens, what’s the point? That’s fair, but short-sighted; emergency communications isn’t just about warning people that something is going to happen, but coordinating the response after the fact. We imagine Hurricane Helene’s path of devastation from Florida to Pennsylvania this week and the subsequent emergency response might bring that fact into focus a bit.

The US Geological Survey and NASA bid goodbye to Landsat 7 this week, 25 years into its five-year mission to watch the planet. Launched in 1999, the satellite’s imaging instruments were witness to many Earth changes, both natural and man-made. Its before-and-after images, like this look at New Orleans around the time of Hurricane Katrina, are especially striking. Despite suffering instrumentation problems within a few years of launch that degraded image quality on some of its sensors, Landsat 7 sent a wealth of geophysical data down to Earth, enough that it has over 210,000 citations in the scientific literature. The aging satellite was moved to a lower orbit in 2021 to make way for its newer cousins, Landsat 8 and 9, which put its polar sun-synchronous orbit out of sync with mission requirements. Despite this, it kept on grabbing images right up until May 28, 2024, when it grabbed a picture of Las Vegas that shows the dramatic increase in the size of the metro area over the last 25 years, along with the stunning decrease of Lake Mead.

How much do you enjoy captchas? If you’re anything like us, you’ve learned to loathe their intentionally fuzzy photos where you have to find traffic lights, stairs, motorcycles, or cars to prove you’re human. Well, surprise — just because you can (eventually) solve a captcha doesn’t make you a human. It turns out that AI can do it too. A security research group at ETH Zurich managed to modify YOLO to solve Google’s reCAPTCHAv2, saying it wasn’t even particularly hard to get it to pass the test 100% of the time within two tries. Think about that the next time you’re wondering if that tiny sliver of the rider’s helmet that intrudes just a tiny bit into one frame counts as a square containing a motorcycle.

We’re not much into cryptocurrency around here, but we do love vaults and over-the-top physical security, and that makes this article on a Swiss Bitcoin vault worth looking at. If you’re perplexed with the need for a physical vault to keep your virtual currency safe, we get it. But with people investing huge amounts of effort in excavating landfills for accidentally disposed hard drives containing Bitcoin wallets worth millions, it starts to make sense. The vault in this story is impressively well-protected, living deep within the granite of a Swiss mountain and protected from every conceivable threat. Ah, but it’s the inconceivable threats that get you, isn’t it? And when you put a lot of valuable things together in one place, well — let’s just say we’re eagerly awaiting the “based on a true story” heist film.

And finally, YouTube seems to be the go-to resource for how-to videos, and we’ve all likely gotten quick tutorials on everything from fixing a toilet to writing a will. So why not a tutorial on changing a fuel filter on an Airbus A320? Sure, you might not need to do one, and we’re pretty sure you’ll be arrested for even trying without the proper certifications, but it’s cool to see it down. All things considered, it doesn’t look all that hard, what with all the ease-of-maintenance features built into the Pratt and Whitney PW1100G engine. As we’ve spent many hours on a creeper in the driveway doing repairs that would better be done on the lift we can’t afford, we found the fact that the mechanic has to lie on his back on the tarmac to service a multimillion-dollar aircraft pleasingly ironic.

As anyone who’s looked at the sky just before dawn or right after dusk can confirm, for the last seventy years or so there have been all kinds of artificial satellites floating around in low-Earth orbit that are visible to the naked eye. Perhaps the most famous in the last few decades is the International Space Station, but there are all kinds of others up there from amateur radio satellites, the Starlink constellation, satellite TV, and, of course, various spy satellites from a few of the world’s governments. [Felix] seems to have found one and his images of it can be found here.

[Felix] has been taking pictures of the night sky for a while now, including many different satellites. While plenty of satellites publish their paths to enable use, spy satellites aren’t generally public record but are still able to be located nonetheless. He uses a large Dobsonian telescope to resolve the images of several different satellites speculated to be spy satellites, with at least one hosting a synthetic aperture radar (SAR) system. His images are good enough to deduce the size and shape of the antennas used, as well as the size of the solar panels on board.

As far as being concerned about the ramifications of imaging top-secret technology, [Felix] is not too concerned. He states that it’s likely that most rival governments would be able to observe these satellites with much more powerful telescopes that he has, so nothing he has published so far is likely to be a surprise to anyone. Besides, these aren’t exactly hidden away, either; they’re up in the sky for anyone to see. If you want to take a shot at that yourself you can get a Dobsonian-like telescope mostly from parts at Ikea, and use a bit of off-the-shelf electronics to point them at just the right position too.

Down here at the bottom of our ocean of air, it’s easy to get complacent about the hazards our universe presents. We feel safe from the dangers of the vacuum of space, where radiation sizzles and rocks whizz around. In the same way that a catfish doesn’t much care what’s going on above the surface of his pond, so too are we content that our atmosphere will deflect, absorb, or incinerate just about anything that space throws our way.

Or will it? We all know that there are things out there in the solar system that are more than capable of wiping us out, and every day holds a non-zero chance that we’ll take the same ride the dinosaurs took 65 million years ago. But if that’s not enough to get you going, now we have to worry about gamma-ray bursts, searing blasts of energy crossing half the universe to arrive here and dump unimaginable amounts of energy on us, enough to not only be measurable by sensitive instruments in space but also to effect systems here on the ground, and in some cases, to physically alter our atmosphere.

Gamma-ray bursts are equal parts fascinating physics and terrifying science fiction. Here’s a look at the science behind them and the engineering that goes into detecting and studying them.

Collapsars and Neutron Stars

Although we now know that gamma-ray bursts are relatively common, it wasn’t all that long ago that we were ignorant of their existence, thanks in part to our thick, protective atmosphere. The discovery of GRBs had to wait for the Space Race to couple with Cold War paranoia, which resulted in Project Vela, a series of early US Air Force satellites designed in part to watch for Soviet compliance with the Partial Test Ban Treaty, which forbade everything except underground nuclear tests. In 1967, gamma ray detectors on satellites Vela 3 and Vela 4 saw a flash of gamma radiation that didn’t match the signature of any known nuclear weapon. Analysis of the data from these and subsequent flashes revealed that they came from space, and the race to understand these energetic cosmic outbursts was on.

Gamma-ray bursts are the most energetic phenomena known, with energies that are almost unfathomable. Their extreme brightness, primarily as gamma rays but across the spectrum and including visible light, makes them some of the most distant objects ever observed. To put their energetic nature into perspective, a GRB in 2008, dubbed GRB 080319B, was bright enough in the visible part of the spectrum to just be visible to the naked eye even though it was 7.5 billion light years away. That’s more than halfway across the observable universe, 3,000 times farther away than the Andromeda galaxy, normally the farthest naked-eye visible object.

For all their energy, GRBs tend to be very short-lived. GRBs break down into two rough groups. Short GRBs last for less than about two seconds, with everything else falling into the long GRB category. About 70% of GRBs we see fall into the long category, but that might be due to the fact that the short bursts are harder to see. It could also be that the events that precipitate the long variety, hypernovae, or the collapse of extremely massive stars and the subsequent formation of rapidly spinning black holes, greatly outnumber the progenitor event for the short category of GRBs, which is the merging of binary neutron stars locked in a terminal death spiral.

The trouble is, the math doesn’t work out; neither of these mind-bogglingly energetic events could create a burst of gamma rays bright enough to be observed across half the universe. The light from such a collapse would spread out evenly in all directions, and the tyranny of the inverse square law would attenuate the signal into the background long before it reached us. Unless, of course, the gamma rays were somehow collimated. The current thinking is that a disk of rapidly spinning material called an accretion disk develops outside the hypernova or the neutron star merger. The magnetic field of this matter is tortured and twisted by its rapid rotation, with magnetic lines of flux getting tangled and torn until they break. This releases all the energy of the hypernova or neutron star merger in the form of gamma rays in two tightly focused jets aligned with the pole of rotation of the accretion disk. And if one of those two jets happens to be pointed our way, we’ll see the resulting GRB.

Crystals and Shadows

But how exactly do we detect gamma-ray bursts? The first trick is to get to space, or at least above the bulk of the atmosphere. Our atmosphere does a fantastic job shielding us from all forms of cosmic radiation, which is why the field of gamma-ray astronomy in general and the discovery of GRBs in particular had to wait until the 1960s. A substantial number of GRBs have been detected by gamma-ray detectors carried aloft on high-altitude balloons, especially in the early days, but most dedicated GRB observatories are now satellite-borne

Gamma-ray detection technology has advanced considerably since the days of Vela, but a lot of the tried and true technology is still used today. Scintillation detectors, for example, use crystals that release photons of visible light when gamma rays of a specific energy pass through them. The photons can then be amplified by photomultiplier tubes, resulting in a pulse of current proportional to the energy of the incident gamma ray. This is the technology used by the Gamma-ray Burst Monitor (GBM) aboard the Fermi Gamma-Ray Space Telescope, a satellite that was launched in 2008. Sensors with the GBT are mounted around the main chassis of Fermi, giving it a complete very of the sky. It consists of twelve sodium iodide detectors, each of which is directly coupled to a 12.7-cm diameter photomultiplier tube. Two additional sensors are made from cylindrical bismuth germanate scintillators, each of which is sandwiched between two photomultipliers. Together, the fourteen sensors cover from 8 keV to 30 MeV,  and used in concert they can tell where in the sky a gamma-ray burst has occurred.

Ionization methods are also used as gamma-ray detectors. The Niel Gehrels Swift Observatory, a dedicated GRB hunting satellite that was launched in 2004, has an instrument known as the Burst Alert Telescope, or BAT. This instrument has a very large field of view and is intended to monitor a huge swath of sky. It uses 32,768 cadmium-zinc-telluride (CZT) detector elements, each 4 x 4 x 2 mm, to directly detect the passage of gamma rays. CZT is a direct-bandgap semiconductor in which electron-hole pairs are formed across an electric field when hit by ionizing radiation, producing a current pulse. The CZT array sits behind a fan-shaped coded aperture, which has thousands of thin lead tiles arranged in an array that looks a little like a QR code. Gamma rays hit the coded aperture first, casting a pattern on the CZT array below. The pattern is used to reconstruct the original properties of the radiation beam mathematically, since conventional mirrors and lenses don’t work with gamma radiation. The BAT is used to rapidly detect the location of a GRB and to determine if it’s something worth looking at. If it is, it rapidly slews the spacecraft to look at the burst with its other instruments and instantly informs other gamma observatories about the source so they can take a look too.

The B.O.A.T.

On October 9, 2022, both Swift and Fermi, along with dozens of other spacecraft and even some ground observatories, would get to witness a cataclysmically powerful gamma-ray burst. Bloodlessly named GRB 221009A but later dubbed “The BOAT,” for “brightest of all time,” the initial GRB lasted for an incredible ten minutes with a signal that remained detectable for hours. Coming from the direction of the constellation Sagittarius from a distance of 2.4 billion light years, the burst was powerful enough to saturate Fermi’s sensors and was ten times more powerful than any signal yet received by Swift.

Almost everything about the BOAT is fascinating, and the superlatives are too many to list. The gamma-ray burst was so powerful that it showed up in the scientific data of spacecraft that aren’t even equipped with gamma-ray detectors, including orbiters at Mars and Voyager 1. Ground-based observatories noted the burst, too, with observatories in Russia and China noting very high-energy photons in the range of tens to hundreds of TeV arriving at their detectors.

The total energy released by GRB 221009A is hard to gauge with precision, mainly because it swamped the very instruments designed to measure it. Estimates range from 10⁴⁸ to 10⁵⁰ joules, either of which dwarfs the total output of the Sun over its entire 10 billion-year lifespan. So much energy was thrown in our direction in such a short timespan that even our own atmosphere was impacted. Lightning detectors in India and Germany were triggered by the burst, and the ionosphere suddenly started behaving as if a small solar flare had just occurred. Most surprising was that the ionospheric effects showed up on the daylight side of the Earth, swamping the usual dampening effect of the Sun.

When the dust had settled from the initial detection of GRB 221009A, the question remained: What happened to cause such an outburst? To answer that, the James Webb Space Telescope was tasked with peering into space, off in the direction of Sagittarius, where it found pretty much what was expected — the remains of a massive supernova. In fact, the supernova that spawned this GRB doesn’t appear to have been particularly special when compared to other supernovae from similarly massive stars, which leaves the question of how the BOAT got to be so powerful.

Does any of this mean that a gamma-ray burst is going to ablate our atmosphere and wipe us out next week? Probably not, and given that this recent outburst was estimated to be a one-in-10,000-year event, we’re probably good for a while. It seems likely that there’s plenty that we don’t yet understand about GRBs, and that the data from GRB 221009A will be pored over for decades to come. It could be that we just got lucky this time, both in that we were in the right place at the right time to see the BOAT, and that it didn’t incinerate us in the process. But given that on average we see one GRB per day somewhere in the sky, chances are good that we’ll have plenty of opportunities to study these remarkable events.

Sometimes there’s nothing more rewarding than pulling apart an old piece of hardware of mysterious origin. [saveitforparts] does just that, and recently came across a curious satellite system from a surplus store. What else could he do, other than tear it down and try to get it humming? 

The device appeared to be satellite communication device for a tracking unit of some sort, complete with a long, thick proprietary cable. That led to a junction box with a serial port and an RJ45 port, along with some other interfaces. Disassembly of the unit revealed it contained a great deal of smarts onboard, including some kind of single-board computer. Comms-wise, it featured a cellular GPRS interface as well as an Orbcomm satellite modem. It also packed in GPS, WiFi, Xbee, Ethernet, and serial interfaces. It ultimately turned out to be a Digi ConnectPort X5 device, used as a satellite tracking system for commercial trucks.

What’s cool is that the video doesn’t just cover pulling it apart. It also dives into communicating with the unit. [saveitforparts] was able to power it up and, using the manufacturer’s software, actually talk to the device. He even found the web interface and tested the satellite modem.

Ultimately, this is the kind of obscure industry hardware that most of us would never come into contact with during our regular lives. It’s neat when these things show up on the secondary market so hackers can pull them apart and see what makes them tick. Video after the break.