Are We Slowly Losing the Soul of Amateur Radio?
31/05/26 16:55
N5XO Blog
Are We Slowly Losing the Soul of Amateur Radio?
There are moments in life when you suddenly realize something you love is quietly changing around you. Not with some dramatic collapse or loud announcement, but slowly…almost silently. One day you simply stop, look around, and realize something important feels different.
Lately, I have been feeling that way about Amateur Radio.
That statement honestly surprises even me. I have always been one of the hobby’s biggest optimists. I still believe Amateur Radio is one of the greatest technical and social hobbies ever created. It teaches electronics, communication, emergency preparedness, engineering, physics, friendship, patience, and problem solving all wrapped into one incredible world.
But if I am being truthful, I also fear for where we are heading.
What troubles me most is not that the hobby is shrinking on paper. In fact, by the numbers, Amateur Radio continues to grow. More people are getting licensed. More radios are being sold. More digital modes are appearing every year. More software exists than ever before.
Yet somehow, despite all of this growth, the actual personal involvement in the hobby feels like it is slowly fading away.
And that is the part that hurts.
For many of us who have been around for decades, Amateur Radio was never just about making a contact. It was about the people behind the microphones. It was about conversations that lasted an hour instead of thirty seconds. It was about hearing familiar voices every evening on simplex. It was about helping a new ham put up their first antenna, tuning a cavity filter together in someone’s garage, or sitting around at a club meeting debating feedline losses and propagation conditions until late into the evening.
We were not just operators.
We were a community.
Today, we increasingly live in a world built around isolation and reduced human interaction, and sadly we are beginning to see that same trend inside of what is supposed to be a communication hobby.
Digital modes continue to explode in popularity, and while they absolutely have technical value, many of them remove the very thing that made Amateur Radio special in the first place: actual communication between human beings.
A signal gets exchanged.
Data gets transferred.
The computer logs the contact.
And then both operators move on without ever really speaking to one another.
No conversation.
No stories.
No laughter.
No friendship.
No connection.
We are exchanging information, but in many cases we are no longer truly communicating.
At the same time, much of the experimentation and home brewing that once defined the spirit of Amateur Radio is fading as well. There was a time when hams built things because they wanted to understand how they worked. Operators designed antennas from scratch, modified old commercial gear, built converters on kitchen tables, and spent nights troubleshooting circuits just for the joy of learning.
Today much of the hobby has become appliance operation. Buy it. Plug it in. Update the firmware. Operate it exactly as delivered.
Convenience has replaced curiosity.
And perhaps even more concerning, many clubs and organizations are slowly struggling not because people have lost interest, but because fewer people are willing to actually participate and help carry the load.
That may sound harsh, but it is true.
You still see people joining clubs. You still see memberships being renewed. But too often people join for what they can gain rather than becoming part of the actual community that supports the hobby. The same small group of older hams organize the events, run the repeaters, teach the classes, coordinate emergency communications, handle the finances, maintain the websites, prepare the swap meets, and keep everything alive.
And every year, that group becomes a little smaller.
The old guard is becoming Silent Keys.
Many of the men and women who built this hobby into what it became are leaving us. They spent decades mentoring others, maintaining infrastructure, creating clubs, organizing events, and building communities that lasted generations.
But now there are fewer people willing to step forward and take the reins.
That reality is becoming impossible to ignore.
You can see it clearly at hamfests, conventions, and swap meets.
My wife Ruth and I recently attended a local event, and honestly it was sobering. Just three or four years ago, you could barely walk through the venue. The aisles were packed shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of people attended. Tables overflowed with old radios, rare tubes, test equipment, military surplus gear, rotators, amplifiers, connectors, and those impossible-to-find parts needed to bring an old rig back to life.
That was part of the magic.
You never knew what treasure you might discover sitting under a dusty table.
But this last event felt very different.
There appeared to be almost as many non-ham-related tables as actual Amateur Radio vendors. Attendance was dramatically smaller. Major manufacturers and dealers increasingly do not seem interested in traveling to many of these events anymore. I do not have exact attendance numbers, but honestly, it did not even look like one hundred people attended this most recent swap meet.
Even some of the larger national events seem different now.
We attended the Huntsville Hamfest, which has always impressed us as one of the major Amateur Radio gatherings in the country. To be fair, attendance this past year seemed somewhat better than the previous year. There was still energy there. Still excitement. Still signs of life.
But even Huntsville somehow felt smaller than it once did.
Less crowded.
Less vibrant.
Less electric.
Maybe part of that is nostalgia. Maybe every generation believes the “good old days” were better. But I do not think this feeling is entirely imagined.
Something is changing.
Over the next six to eight months, Ruth and I plan to attend several larger events around Texas and beyond. In fact, we already have another event planned within the next week. Part of me hopes what we experienced recently was simply an anomaly. I truly want to believe that.
Because despite everything I have written here, I still love this hobby deeply.
I still believe there is nothing else quite like it in the world.
Where else can someone bounce signals off the moon, build antennas in their garage, provide emergency communications during disasters, experiment with microwave frequencies, talk across continents on homemade equipment, and create friendships that last a lifetime?
Amateur Radio still has enormous value.
But if we want this hobby to survive not just as a collection of frequencies and digital protocols, but as a living, breathing community, then we must start investing in it again personally.
We need operators willing to mentor.
We need people willing to volunteer.
We need younger hams willing to lead.
We need conversations instead of only automated exchanges.
We need builders again.
We need communities again.
And perhaps most importantly, we need to remember that Amateur Radio was never supposed to simply connect radios.
It was supposed to connect people.
— Greg Lewis, N5XO
Are We Slowly Losing the Soul of Amateur Radio?
There are moments in life when you suddenly realize something you love is quietly changing around you. Not with some dramatic collapse or loud announcement, but slowly…almost silently. One day you simply stop, look around, and realize something important feels different.
Lately, I have been feeling that way about Amateur Radio.
That statement honestly surprises even me. I have always been one of the hobby’s biggest optimists. I still believe Amateur Radio is one of the greatest technical and social hobbies ever created. It teaches electronics, communication, emergency preparedness, engineering, physics, friendship, patience, and problem solving all wrapped into one incredible world.
But if I am being truthful, I also fear for where we are heading.
What troubles me most is not that the hobby is shrinking on paper. In fact, by the numbers, Amateur Radio continues to grow. More people are getting licensed. More radios are being sold. More digital modes are appearing every year. More software exists than ever before.
Yet somehow, despite all of this growth, the actual personal involvement in the hobby feels like it is slowly fading away.
And that is the part that hurts.
For many of us who have been around for decades, Amateur Radio was never just about making a contact. It was about the people behind the microphones. It was about conversations that lasted an hour instead of thirty seconds. It was about hearing familiar voices every evening on simplex. It was about helping a new ham put up their first antenna, tuning a cavity filter together in someone’s garage, or sitting around at a club meeting debating feedline losses and propagation conditions until late into the evening.
We were not just operators.
We were a community.
Today, we increasingly live in a world built around isolation and reduced human interaction, and sadly we are beginning to see that same trend inside of what is supposed to be a communication hobby.
Digital modes continue to explode in popularity, and while they absolutely have technical value, many of them remove the very thing that made Amateur Radio special in the first place: actual communication between human beings.
A signal gets exchanged.
Data gets transferred.
The computer logs the contact.
And then both operators move on without ever really speaking to one another.
No conversation.
No stories.
No laughter.
No friendship.
No connection.
We are exchanging information, but in many cases we are no longer truly communicating.
At the same time, much of the experimentation and home brewing that once defined the spirit of Amateur Radio is fading as well. There was a time when hams built things because they wanted to understand how they worked. Operators designed antennas from scratch, modified old commercial gear, built converters on kitchen tables, and spent nights troubleshooting circuits just for the joy of learning.
Today much of the hobby has become appliance operation. Buy it. Plug it in. Update the firmware. Operate it exactly as delivered.
Convenience has replaced curiosity.
And perhaps even more concerning, many clubs and organizations are slowly struggling not because people have lost interest, but because fewer people are willing to actually participate and help carry the load.
That may sound harsh, but it is true.
You still see people joining clubs. You still see memberships being renewed. But too often people join for what they can gain rather than becoming part of the actual community that supports the hobby. The same small group of older hams organize the events, run the repeaters, teach the classes, coordinate emergency communications, handle the finances, maintain the websites, prepare the swap meets, and keep everything alive.
And every year, that group becomes a little smaller.
The old guard is becoming Silent Keys.
Many of the men and women who built this hobby into what it became are leaving us. They spent decades mentoring others, maintaining infrastructure, creating clubs, organizing events, and building communities that lasted generations.
But now there are fewer people willing to step forward and take the reins.
That reality is becoming impossible to ignore.
You can see it clearly at hamfests, conventions, and swap meets.
My wife Ruth and I recently attended a local event, and honestly it was sobering. Just three or four years ago, you could barely walk through the venue. The aisles were packed shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of people attended. Tables overflowed with old radios, rare tubes, test equipment, military surplus gear, rotators, amplifiers, connectors, and those impossible-to-find parts needed to bring an old rig back to life.
That was part of the magic.
You never knew what treasure you might discover sitting under a dusty table.
But this last event felt very different.
There appeared to be almost as many non-ham-related tables as actual Amateur Radio vendors. Attendance was dramatically smaller. Major manufacturers and dealers increasingly do not seem interested in traveling to many of these events anymore. I do not have exact attendance numbers, but honestly, it did not even look like one hundred people attended this most recent swap meet.
Even some of the larger national events seem different now.
We attended the Huntsville Hamfest, which has always impressed us as one of the major Amateur Radio gatherings in the country. To be fair, attendance this past year seemed somewhat better than the previous year. There was still energy there. Still excitement. Still signs of life.
But even Huntsville somehow felt smaller than it once did.
Less crowded.
Less vibrant.
Less electric.
Maybe part of that is nostalgia. Maybe every generation believes the “good old days” were better. But I do not think this feeling is entirely imagined.
Something is changing.
Over the next six to eight months, Ruth and I plan to attend several larger events around Texas and beyond. In fact, we already have another event planned within the next week. Part of me hopes what we experienced recently was simply an anomaly. I truly want to believe that.
Because despite everything I have written here, I still love this hobby deeply.
I still believe there is nothing else quite like it in the world.
Where else can someone bounce signals off the moon, build antennas in their garage, provide emergency communications during disasters, experiment with microwave frequencies, talk across continents on homemade equipment, and create friendships that last a lifetime?
Amateur Radio still has enormous value.
But if we want this hobby to survive not just as a collection of frequencies and digital protocols, but as a living, breathing community, then we must start investing in it again personally.
We need operators willing to mentor.
We need people willing to volunteer.
We need younger hams willing to lead.
We need conversations instead of only automated exchanges.
We need builders again.
We need communities again.
And perhaps most importantly, we need to remember that Amateur Radio was never supposed to simply connect radios.
It was supposed to connect people.
— Greg Lewis, N5XO
The Day Lightening Finally Found Me:
20/05/26 15:58
N5XO’s Thoughts
“Well… Apparently Lightning Finally Found Me”
For more than 50 years in Amateur Radio, I’ve been one of those guys when it came to grounding and lightning protection. You know the type — the ham who lectures everybody else about proper station grounding, bonding, surge suppression, single-point entry panels, PolyPhasers, tower grounding rings, coax disconnects, and why “plugging it into a power strip” is not lightning protection.
And honestly? I was proud of it.
Over five decades of storms, towers, antennas, amplifiers, computers, rotators, preamps, feedlines, and enough RF to probably confuse small wildlife for miles around… I had never lost a single piece of equipment to lightning.
Until last night.
Apparently Mother Nature finally looked down and said:
“Well boys… let’s test Greg’s theory.”
And honestly? Considering what happened, I’d still say the grounding system passed the test.
We took a serious nearby strike during the storms. As far as I can tell, it was not a direct hit on the tower itself — and thank goodness for that — but it was close enough to inject a massive pulse somewhere into the station environment.
The casualty list currently appears to be:
- One radio connected to the 144.200 weak signal antenna system
- A Meshtastic relay node
- Our tower-mounted 180-degree 16 MP camera we use for antenna tracking and monitoring
- Possibly a few other minor surprises still waiting to be discovered
The most of the radios survived. The amplifiers survived. The computers survived. The bench test equipment survived. Most of the station survived.
And considering the amount of metal hanging in the Texas sky above my shack, that’s saying something.
Because let me tell you something many newer operators do not fully appreciate:
Lightning does not have to directly hit your antenna to destroy equipment.
A nearby strike can induce enormous voltages into coax lines, control cables, Ethernet lines, AC wiring, grounding differentials, and pretty much anything conductive. The pulse rise time is unbelievably fast, and when thousands — sometimes tens of thousands — of volts suddenly appear where they shouldn’t, electronics become very expensive fuses.
That’s why proper grounding matters.
And no — I’m not talking about the classic “I drove an 8-foot rod into the dirt behind the shack and called it good” approach.
Real protection means:
- Proper tower grounding
- Multiple bonded ground rods
- Heavy copper bonding between rods
- Single-point ground entry
- Coax surge suppressors
- AC surge protection
- Bonding all equipment together
- Proper feedline grounding
- Eliminating ground potential differences
- Protecting network and Ethernet paths
- Understanding that lightning protection is about controlling energy paths — not magically “stopping” lightning
No system can guarantee survival from a direct strike. Nothing can.
But a properly designed grounding system can dramatically reduce damage and help ensure that when the inevitable happens, you lose some equipment instead of all equipment.
And last night proved exactly that.
Honestly, if this had happened 30 years ago before I became obsessive about grounding and bonding, I suspect the damage list would have looked more like this:
- Radios: cooked
- Computers: smoked
- Rotor controllers: dead
- Amplifiers: now decorative paperweights
- Ethernet switches: molten sadness
- Shack owner: sitting in darkness muttering words inappropriate for publication
Though I will admit…
There is something deeply irritating about surviving decades without lightning damage only to have your station finally say:
“Congratulations Greg. Your immunity has expired.”
The camera loss particularly hurts because that 180-degree tower camera had become incredibly useful for antenna tracking, rotor verification, weather observation, and general tower monitoring. Of course lightning always seems to target the gear you actually like.
And naturally, the tiny little Meshtastic relay that barely draws enough power to light a Christmas bulb apparently sacrificed itself heroically for the greater good.
A moment of silence for the little node.
What this experience really reinforces is something many hams unfortunately learn only after disaster strikes:
Grounding and lightning protection are not optional station accessories.
They are part of the station.
We spend thousands on radios, amplifiers, antennas, towers, feedline, computers, and test equipment — but many operators still neglect the one system that protects all of it.
A properly grounded station is not glamorous. Nobody brags about copper strap at Field Day. There’s no “Best Grounding System” plaque at hamfests.
But when the Texas sky turns black and the static crashes start rattling the speaker…
That grounding system suddenly becomes the most important piece of equipment you own.
And last night, mine earned its keep.
So today’s lesson from Cedar Creek Ranch is simple:
Lightning eventually comes for everybody.
The goal isn’t to pretend you can stop it. The goal is to make sure your station survives it.
Mine mostly did.
And honestly… after 50 years, I’ll still call that a win.
June ARRL VHF/UHF Contest
19/05/26 06:32
The June ARRL VHF/UHF Contest is almost here… and if you have NEVER experienced a truly active weak signal weekend, you are missing one of the greatest thrills in Amateur Radio.
This is the weekend the “dead bands” come alive.
Suddenly 50.125 erupts with signals from across the country. 144.200 becomes wall-to-wall activity. Rovers are moving grid-to-grid. Stations are pointing beams in every direction. Operators are chasing openings, tropo, meteor scatter, aircraft enhancement, rain scatter, and every tiny propagation advantage they can squeeze out of the atmosphere.
For one weekend… weak signal operators take over the bands.
And THIS is what real VHF/UHF operating was built around.
There is absolutely nothing boring about hearing a weak station rise out of the noise floor from Florida while you are sitting here in EL09 Texas fighting fading, turning antennas, tweaking gain, and trying to complete a contact before the band collapses.
One minute the band sounds empty… The next minute you are working a station in EL98 Florida that was completely inaudible 30 seconds earlier.
THAT is the adrenaline rush that hooks people on weak signal operating.
Not automation. Not staring silently at a waterfall. Not letting software do the work.
REAL operating.
Operator skill matters during these contests.
Your antennas matter. Your feedline matters. Your preamps matter. Your ability to hear weak signals matters. Your timing matters. Your operating technique matters.
That is exactly why I strongly encourage operators to spend as much time as possible on PHONE and CW during the contest and avoid parking on FT8 the entire weekend.
FT8 has its place. It absolutely does. It can be a fantastic tool for experimentation and extremely weak signal work.
But when FT8 starts replacing live activity during contests, it drains the life out of the bands.
Instead of hearing operators calling CQ… Instead of active run frequencies… Instead of fast paced exchanges… Instead of pileups and excitement…
…the bands become quiet while everyone watches software make contacts for them.
That is NOT what made VHF weak signal operating exciting. That is NOT what built this part of the hobby.
The heart of VHF/UHF contesting has always been human skill, fast operating, station performance, and the pure excitement of pulling impossible signals out of the noise with your own ears.
Some of the greatest moments in Amateur Radio happen during these contests.
The impossible contact. The sudden opening. The unexpected grid. The weak station that builds from barely audible to armchair copy. The rover you finally catch after chasing him across four grids. The station 800 miles away that should NOT be there… but somehow is.
That excitement is why many of us fell in love with weak signal operating in the first place.
So get on the air.
Call CQ. Work grids. Turn the beams. Wake up the bands again.
Dust off the equipment. Check the hardline. Sweep the antennas. Fire up the amplifiers. Get portable. Get mobile. Get active.
And PLEASE… Spend some time on SSB and CW where the real heart and soul of VHF/UHF contesting still lives.
Let’s make this June contest loud. Let’s make it active. Let’s fill the bands with signals again.
50.125 USB 144.200 USB 222.100 USB 432.100 USB 1296.100 USB
See you in the contest.
— Greg Lewis N5XO EL09 HAMsters Weak Signal Group
“Real Hams don’t need no stinking repeaters.”
This is the weekend the “dead bands” come alive.
Suddenly 50.125 erupts with signals from across the country. 144.200 becomes wall-to-wall activity. Rovers are moving grid-to-grid. Stations are pointing beams in every direction. Operators are chasing openings, tropo, meteor scatter, aircraft enhancement, rain scatter, and every tiny propagation advantage they can squeeze out of the atmosphere.
For one weekend… weak signal operators take over the bands.
And THIS is what real VHF/UHF operating was built around.
There is absolutely nothing boring about hearing a weak station rise out of the noise floor from Florida while you are sitting here in EL09 Texas fighting fading, turning antennas, tweaking gain, and trying to complete a contact before the band collapses.
One minute the band sounds empty… The next minute you are working a station in EL98 Florida that was completely inaudible 30 seconds earlier.
THAT is the adrenaline rush that hooks people on weak signal operating.
Not automation. Not staring silently at a waterfall. Not letting software do the work.
REAL operating.
Operator skill matters during these contests.
Your antennas matter. Your feedline matters. Your preamps matter. Your ability to hear weak signals matters. Your timing matters. Your operating technique matters.
That is exactly why I strongly encourage operators to spend as much time as possible on PHONE and CW during the contest and avoid parking on FT8 the entire weekend.
FT8 has its place. It absolutely does. It can be a fantastic tool for experimentation and extremely weak signal work.
But when FT8 starts replacing live activity during contests, it drains the life out of the bands.
Instead of hearing operators calling CQ… Instead of active run frequencies… Instead of fast paced exchanges… Instead of pileups and excitement…
…the bands become quiet while everyone watches software make contacts for them.
That is NOT what made VHF weak signal operating exciting. That is NOT what built this part of the hobby.
The heart of VHF/UHF contesting has always been human skill, fast operating, station performance, and the pure excitement of pulling impossible signals out of the noise with your own ears.
Some of the greatest moments in Amateur Radio happen during these contests.
The impossible contact. The sudden opening. The unexpected grid. The weak station that builds from barely audible to armchair copy. The rover you finally catch after chasing him across four grids. The station 800 miles away that should NOT be there… but somehow is.
That excitement is why many of us fell in love with weak signal operating in the first place.
So get on the air.
Call CQ. Work grids. Turn the beams. Wake up the bands again.
Dust off the equipment. Check the hardline. Sweep the antennas. Fire up the amplifiers. Get portable. Get mobile. Get active.
And PLEASE… Spend some time on SSB and CW where the real heart and soul of VHF/UHF contesting still lives.
Let’s make this June contest loud. Let’s make it active. Let’s fill the bands with signals again.
50.125 USB 144.200 USB 222.100 USB 432.100 USB 1296.100 USB
See you in the contest.
— Greg Lewis N5XO EL09 HAMsters Weak Signal Group
“Real Hams don’t need no stinking repeaters.”
The Magic is Coming Again — ARRL June VHF/UHF Contest Weekend
08/05/26 06:52
N5XO Blog
The Magic is Coming Again — ARRL June VHF/UHF Contest Weekend
There are moments in Amateur Radio that remind you exactly why you fell in love with this hobby in the first place.
The June ARRL VHF/UHF Contest is one of those moments.
For one glorious weekend, the quiet bands above 50 MHz suddenly come alive. Radios that normally sit silent begin calling CQ. Weak signals rise from the noise floor. Grid squares you have never worked suddenly appear in your headphones. Six meters opens like a giant doorway across the country. Two meters starts stretching far beyond the horizon. Operators who have not touched SSB or CW in months suddenly remember why weak signal operating is pure magic.
The 2026 ARRL June VHF Contest begins Saturday, June 13 at 1800 UTC and runs through Monday, June 15 at 0259 UTC.
And honestly?
I want to encourage every single HAMster, every weak signal operator, every Technician Class operator with a horizontal antenna, every old timer, every newcomer, every “I only have 50 watts” operator to get on the air.
Not FT8.
Not watching waterfalls.
Not staring at a computer screen waiting for software to make contacts for you.
I mean REAL operating.
PHONE.
CW.
Human beings talking to human beings.
The thrill of hearing a weak station rise out of the noise and pulling the call out by ear. The excitement of rapid-fire runs on 6 meters when the band suddenly explodes wide open. The rush of working station after station after station as grids pile into the log faster than you can write them down.
There are few experiences in Amateur Radio more exciting than sitting on 50.125 or 50.130 during a strong June opening and watching the meter pin while stations from all over North America call you nonstop.
Hundreds of contacts can happen in a matter of hours.
The pace becomes addictive.
“CQ Contest from N5XO, EL09…”
…and suddenly the pileup begins.
Then comes the real weak signal fun.
Two meters and above.
This is where operators discover what VHF/UHF weak signal operating is really about. Suddenly that station 300 miles away is workable. A new grid appears on 432. Someone points a beam your direction on 222 MHz. A rover shows up from a rare grid. You rotate antennas, chase weak signals, compare propagation paths, and realize these bands are anything but “dead.”
They are only waiting for operators.
That is why contests matter.
Activity creates opportunity.
The more stations on the air, the more new grids become available. The more distances become possible. The more excitement builds across every band from 6 meters through microwave.
And here is the beautiful part…
The exchange is SIMPLE.
During the ARRL June VHF Contest, you generally exchange:
That is it.
Simple.
Fast.
Easy.
You do not need massive towers.
You do not need legal limit amplifiers.
You do not need stacked arrays stretching across the county.
You just need to get on the air.
A small yagi on 2 meters can work surprising distances during contest weekend. A simple 6 meter dipole can suddenly become a continent-wide DX machine when the band opens. Even modest stations can have the time of their lives.
And for newer operators…
THIS is where skills are built.
Learning how to aim antennas.
Learning how propagation changes.
Learning how to pull weak callsigns from noise.
Learning how to operate efficiently.
Learning how exciting REAL VHF/UHF operating can be.
This is the kind of operating that built the weak signal community long before computer-generated contacts became fashionable.
There is also something deeply emotional about hearing old friends return to the air during contest weekends. Familiar callsigns suddenly reappear. Operators dust off equipment that has been quiet for months. Entire regions wake up. For a short time, the bands feel alive the way they were always meant to be.
And somewhere out there…
A brand-new operator will make their first long-distance 2 meter SSB contact.
Someone will experience their first 6 meter opening.
Someone will work a new state.
A new grid.
A new distance record.
A memory they will talk about for years.
That is why this contest matters.
So here is the invitation from N5XO and the HAMsters Weak Signal Group:
Get on the air.
Call CQ.
Turn the beam.
Listen carefully.
Work Phone.
Work CW.
Be part of the excitement instead of watching it happen on a waterfall screen.
The bands above 50 MHz were never meant to be silent.
See you on 50.125.
See you on 144.200.
See you in the pileups.
— Greg Lewis HAMsters Weak Signal Group — “The Original Unclub”
For official ARRL contest information and rules visit: ARRL June VHF Contest
The Magic is Coming Again — ARRL June VHF/UHF Contest Weekend
There are moments in Amateur Radio that remind you exactly why you fell in love with this hobby in the first place.
The June ARRL VHF/UHF Contest is one of those moments.
For one glorious weekend, the quiet bands above 50 MHz suddenly come alive. Radios that normally sit silent begin calling CQ. Weak signals rise from the noise floor. Grid squares you have never worked suddenly appear in your headphones. Six meters opens like a giant doorway across the country. Two meters starts stretching far beyond the horizon. Operators who have not touched SSB or CW in months suddenly remember why weak signal operating is pure magic.
The 2026 ARRL June VHF Contest begins Saturday, June 13 at 1800 UTC and runs through Monday, June 15 at 0259 UTC.
And honestly?
I want to encourage every single HAMster, every weak signal operator, every Technician Class operator with a horizontal antenna, every old timer, every newcomer, every “I only have 50 watts” operator to get on the air.
Not FT8.
Not watching waterfalls.
Not staring at a computer screen waiting for software to make contacts for you.
I mean REAL operating.
PHONE.
CW.
Human beings talking to human beings.
The thrill of hearing a weak station rise out of the noise and pulling the call out by ear. The excitement of rapid-fire runs on 6 meters when the band suddenly explodes wide open. The rush of working station after station after station as grids pile into the log faster than you can write them down.
There are few experiences in Amateur Radio more exciting than sitting on 50.125 or 50.130 during a strong June opening and watching the meter pin while stations from all over North America call you nonstop.
Hundreds of contacts can happen in a matter of hours.
The pace becomes addictive.
“CQ Contest from N5XO, EL09…”
…and suddenly the pileup begins.
Then comes the real weak signal fun.
Two meters and above.
This is where operators discover what VHF/UHF weak signal operating is really about. Suddenly that station 300 miles away is workable. A new grid appears on 432. Someone points a beam your direction on 222 MHz. A rover shows up from a rare grid. You rotate antennas, chase weak signals, compare propagation paths, and realize these bands are anything but “dead.”
They are only waiting for operators.
That is why contests matter.
Activity creates opportunity.
The more stations on the air, the more new grids become available. The more distances become possible. The more excitement builds across every band from 6 meters through microwave.
And here is the beautiful part…
The exchange is SIMPLE.
During the ARRL June VHF Contest, you generally exchange:
- Callsign
- Signal report
- Maidenhead Grid Square
That is it.
Simple.
Fast.
Easy.
You do not need massive towers.
You do not need legal limit amplifiers.
You do not need stacked arrays stretching across the county.
You just need to get on the air.
A small yagi on 2 meters can work surprising distances during contest weekend. A simple 6 meter dipole can suddenly become a continent-wide DX machine when the band opens. Even modest stations can have the time of their lives.
And for newer operators…
THIS is where skills are built.
Learning how to aim antennas.
Learning how propagation changes.
Learning how to pull weak callsigns from noise.
Learning how to operate efficiently.
Learning how exciting REAL VHF/UHF operating can be.
This is the kind of operating that built the weak signal community long before computer-generated contacts became fashionable.
There is also something deeply emotional about hearing old friends return to the air during contest weekends. Familiar callsigns suddenly reappear. Operators dust off equipment that has been quiet for months. Entire regions wake up. For a short time, the bands feel alive the way they were always meant to be.
And somewhere out there…
A brand-new operator will make their first long-distance 2 meter SSB contact.
Someone will experience their first 6 meter opening.
Someone will work a new state.
A new grid.
A new distance record.
A memory they will talk about for years.
That is why this contest matters.
So here is the invitation from N5XO and the HAMsters Weak Signal Group:
Get on the air.
Call CQ.
Turn the beam.
Listen carefully.
Work Phone.
Work CW.
Be part of the excitement instead of watching it happen on a waterfall screen.
The bands above 50 MHz were never meant to be silent.
See you on 50.125.
See you on 144.200.
See you in the pileups.
— Greg Lewis HAMsters Weak Signal Group — “The Original Unclub”
For official ARRL contest information and rules visit: ARRL June VHF Contest
Ask not what HAMsters can do for you, but what you can do for the HAMsters.
03/05/26 09:52
The Future of the HAMsters Depends on All of Us
The HAMsters Weak Signal Group has always been something special.
We’re not just another club—we’ve always been more like a family. A group where people showed up, helped each other, built things together, and pushed the boundaries of what Amateur Radio—especially VHF/UHF weak signal—could really do.
And for a long time, that worked extremely well.
From 2006 through the early COVID years, we had a strong and dependable support structure. A core group of highly motivated individuals kept things moving forward—driving nets, organizing events, building projects, maintaining equipment, funding efforts, and mentoring others.
People like Greg N5XO, Jerry KB2WDM, Bill WX5W, and Jay W5GNA—along with a handful of others—carried an enormous portion of that load. Some led from the front, others quietly supported in the background—but together, they made this group thrive.
Then things changed.
COVID disrupted activity. And more importantly, we lost key members—some to passing, others to health or life changes. The truth is simple and hard:
The core support structure that built this group is no longer what it once was.
Where We Are Today
Today, we have 214 members.
That sounds strong on paper.
But the reality is that the day-to-day operation of the group—nets, training, events, infrastructure, repeaters, beacons, tower work, mentoring—falls on a very small number of people.
In many cases, the same 3–5 individuals are doing the majority of the work.
Financial support? Also a small group.
Technical work? Same group.
Project help? Same group.
Leadership? Largely one or two people.
That’s not sustainable.
And it raises a very real question:
What happens if those few people can no longer do it?
The Reality We Need to Face
Every group has leaders and contributors—that’s normal.
But what we’re seeing now isn’t balance. It’s dependency.
If everything depends on one or two people, then the future of the group depends on one or two people.
And that’s not how strong organizations survive.
We’ve already seen what happens when key individuals are no longer there. It’s not theoretical—it’s something we’ve lived through.
What We Still Have (And It’s a Lot)
Even with these challenges, the HAMsters still have something many groups don’t:
But we do need to rebuild the structure that supports it.
What We Need Now
We don’t need a handful of superheroes.
We need more people doing a little bit.
That’s how this group thrived before—and that’s how it will thrive again.
Here are just a few ways members can step in:
You just have to be willing.
A Simple Challenge
Take a moment and ask yourself:
What can I contribute?
Not “what can someone else do.” Not “what should leadership handle.”
What can you do?
Because every single member has something to offer—whether it’s time, knowledge, energy, or simply showing up and participating.
Drivers and Passengers
Every successful group needs both.
But right now, we need more drivers.
People willing to step forward, take initiative, and help carry the load—even in small ways.
You don’t have to take over everything.
Just take ownership of something.
Let’s Build It Again—Together
The HAMsters Weak Signal Group is still here.
Still capable.
Still valuable.
Still worth investing in.
But the next chapter depends on whether we choose to step up—or step back.
Let’s work together to:
Let’s decide what it’s going to be.
Be part of the solution. Be part of the growth. Be part of what comes next.
The HAMsters Weak Signal Group has always been something special.
We’re not just another club—we’ve always been more like a family. A group where people showed up, helped each other, built things together, and pushed the boundaries of what Amateur Radio—especially VHF/UHF weak signal—could really do.
And for a long time, that worked extremely well.
From 2006 through the early COVID years, we had a strong and dependable support structure. A core group of highly motivated individuals kept things moving forward—driving nets, organizing events, building projects, maintaining equipment, funding efforts, and mentoring others.
People like Greg N5XO, Jerry KB2WDM, Bill WX5W, and Jay W5GNA—along with a handful of others—carried an enormous portion of that load. Some led from the front, others quietly supported in the background—but together, they made this group thrive.
Then things changed.
COVID disrupted activity. And more importantly, we lost key members—some to passing, others to health or life changes. The truth is simple and hard:
The core support structure that built this group is no longer what it once was.
Where We Are Today
Today, we have 214 members.
That sounds strong on paper.
But the reality is that the day-to-day operation of the group—nets, training, events, infrastructure, repeaters, beacons, tower work, mentoring—falls on a very small number of people.
In many cases, the same 3–5 individuals are doing the majority of the work.
Financial support? Also a small group.
Technical work? Same group.
Project help? Same group.
Leadership? Largely one or two people.
That’s not sustainable.
And it raises a very real question:
What happens if those few people can no longer do it?
The Reality We Need to Face
Every group has leaders and contributors—that’s normal.
But what we’re seeing now isn’t balance. It’s dependency.
If everything depends on one or two people, then the future of the group depends on one or two people.
And that’s not how strong organizations survive.
We’ve already seen what happens when key individuals are no longer there. It’s not theoretical—it’s something we’ve lived through.
What We Still Have (And It’s a Lot)
Even with these challenges, the HAMsters still have something many groups don’t:
- A strong identity
- A history of real technical achievement
- A reputation for VHF/UHF weak signal excellence
- A welcoming, family-friendly environment
- A proven ability to grow new operators—including spouses and families
- A foundation that still exists, even if it needs rebuilding
But we do need to rebuild the structure that supports it.
What We Need Now
We don’t need a handful of superheroes.
We need more people doing a little bit.
That’s how this group thrived before—and that’s how it will thrive again.
Here are just a few ways members can step in:
- Help run or rotate net control duties
- Present or assist with training topics
- Help organize events or outings
- Assist with tower or antenna projects
- Contribute ideas—and help execute them
- Encourage participation on the air and online
- Support infrastructure when able
You just have to be willing.
A Simple Challenge
Take a moment and ask yourself:
What can I contribute?
Not “what can someone else do.” Not “what should leadership handle.”
What can you do?
Because every single member has something to offer—whether it’s time, knowledge, energy, or simply showing up and participating.
Drivers and Passengers
Every successful group needs both.
But right now, we need more drivers.
People willing to step forward, take initiative, and help carry the load—even in small ways.
You don’t have to take over everything.
Just take ownership of something.
Let’s Build It Again—Together
The HAMsters Weak Signal Group is still here.
Still capable.
Still valuable.
Still worth investing in.
But the next chapter depends on whether we choose to step up—or step back.
Let’s work together to:
- Grow our nets
- Expand training
- Rebuild activity
- Strengthen participation
- Support each other again
Let’s decide what it’s going to be.
Be part of the solution. Be part of the growth. Be part of what comes next.
