An irregular shard of a crystal wafer is set on a table, with two wire probes contacting it. Between the probes, a bright blue-purple light glows, illuminating the rest of the wafer.

Making LEDs In The Home Fab

Impressive as it most certainly is when an amateur fabricates a semiconductor, most of the projects we’ve seen are more demonstrations than workable chips. [Dr. Semiconductor], however, is going much further with his fabrication process, and is already working on a method to bond chips to printed circuit boards. It’s difficult to align a PCB with the pads on the underside of an opaque silicon wafer, however, so as a trial run he’s made and bonded some transparent LED chips.

The starting material for these chips is a gallium nitride (GaN) LED epiwafer, a stacked structure of n-doped GaN, an indium gallium nitride quantum well layer, and p-doped GaN grown on a sapphire substrate. When current passes through the structure, electrons from the n-doped layer and holes from the p-type layer recombine in the quantum well layer, emitting blue light. To make a functional LED from this, [Dr. Semiconductor] needed to make electrical contacts to both the n-type and p-type layers. Making the n-type contact required cutting through the p-type and quantum well layers.

This would normally be done with reactive ion etching in chlorine, but [Dr. Semiconductor] came up with a new process: a 355-nm ultraviolet etching laser causes GaN to break down into gallium and nitrogen, with the resulting cut being cleaned up by a potassium hydroxide etch. To deposit the contacts themselves, [Dr. Semiconductor] formed a photoresist mask, deposited metal (nickel, silver, and titanium) in a sputtering chamber, and used a developer solution to dissolve the mask and lift off the unwanted metal regions.

A square, purple PCB is shown under a microscope. The PCB has four vias surrounding a transparent chip, which has a blob of translucent yellow material on top of it.
The LED after bonding and phosphor application.

When [Dr. Semiconductor] applied current between the two contacts, the LED glowed bright blue. The next step was to mount it to a PCB; to do so, he first sliced the wafer into individual LED chips with the ultraviolet laser. He then electroplated indium bumps onto a printed circuit board, positioned the chip above these bumps, added some rosin flux, and melted the indium bumps. This soldered the chip to the board and let the board power the LED.

Like most commercial LEDs, these were blue; most LED assemblies additionally include a phosphor layer which absorbs blue light and emits another color. To create a white LED, for example, [Dr. Semiconductor] mixed cerium-doped yttrium aluminium garnet phosphor powder with clear silicone and spread it over the LED. This absorbs some of the blue light and emits yellow light, and the resulting mixture of blue and yellow light looks white to human eyes.

We’ve previously covered some of the history of LEDs and the phosphors which make them useful. This seems to be the first inorganic LED we’ve seen, but we’ve also seen a few homemade OLEDs.

Thanks to [SpuriousIndices] for the tip!

A man's hand is shown holding two small circuit boards, joined together by a central bridge. Each circuit board is connected to four wires and a coaxial antenna cable.

Open-Source ExpressLRS Receiver Reaches For Range

Drone control links are, from a radio signals perspective, nothing short of amazing: using a transmitter capable of transmitting, at most, one watt, a protocol such as ExpressLRS (ELRS) can control a drone over 100 kilometers away. [Stan], who has been building a drone electronics stack from scratch, recently designed four ELRS receivers and went over the principles behind their incredible range.

Up to a certain point, the simplest way to increase a radio’s range is to lower the frequency; lower radio frequencies penetrate better through most materials and don’t attenuate as quickly with distance. However, although ELRS can use 900 MHz bands, [Stan]’s receivers primarily use 2.4 GHz. The major improvement is in modulation: unlike other control protocols, which mostly use frequency modulation, or Wi-Fi, which uses phase and amplitude modulation, ELRS uses Chirp Spread Spectrum modulation. This has a low data rate, but it’s very reliable; every bit is transmitted as a chirp – a linearly rising radio tone – and the data is encoded in the chirp’s starting frequency. To decode this, the receiver multiplies it with an inverse chirp, then takes a fast Fourier transform, revealing the starting frequency. This process has an equivalent gain of 24 dB, which is enough to let it decode signals even below the receiver’s noise floor.

The hardware [Stan] designed to implement this was comparatively simple, just an ESP32 microcontroller, an SX1281 radio chip, and a few peripherals. All four receivers worked in 2.4 GHz, but two had additional 900 MHz antennas. Against RF design convention, one of the receivers used a via to connect the antenna. This would normally cause a significant impedance mismatch, but since there were enough ground-plane vias nearby, the current return path was barely affected; the receiver’s performance hardly changed. In one test, all four receivers maintained a connection at more than five kilometers, despite a forest blocking the signal’s path.

We previously covered ExpressLRS when it was still an emerging technology. To get this kind of range, it builds on LoRa technology, which has reached some impressive distance records.

Thanks to [Keith Olson] for the tip!

A test setup for an actuator is shown on a benchtop. A power supply connects to a cylindrical actuator, which has an arm pressing against a load cell. The load cell's output is shown on a computer screen, which is labelled "Torque".

Building An Actuator For A Walking Robot

Unlike biological systems, which can use muscles, robots that try to imitate them don’t have particularly fast, powerful, compact linear actuators available. This puts walking robots at a particular disadvantage, since they can’t spread their actuators along a limb and have to place them right at the joint. [Food for Robots] took on the challenge of building such a joint-mounted actuator, and shared the results in a recent video.

[Food for Robots] is building a walking robot, so he needed a compact, lightweight, and backdrivable actuator capable of producing 20 Newton-meters of torque. He’d previously built a largely 3D-printed actuator, but when he tried to exceed 10 Nm of torque with it, various parts kept breaking. He therefore machined the second iteration out of aluminum; since it didn’t need to be 3D printed, he switched from a Capstan drive to a planetary gearbox. The gearbox sits in the center of the actuator, inside the stator, and uses several stacked layers of gears to increase strength within the limits of a small CNC.

Continue reading “Building An Actuator For A Walking Robot”

A man's hand is shown holding brass-colored tweezers. In the tweezers are held the inner race and the ball cage of a ball bearing, with half of the outer race lying below them on a table.

Splitting A Ball Bearing To Cut Out Backlash

Gears are usually the biggest contributors to backlash in a mechanical system, but they’re far from the only culprits. Ball bearings are a less obvious source of imprecision, since any gaps between the balls and the races can lead to axial wobble. Precision mechanisms can eliminate this by pairing two ball bearings, holding the outer races fixed, and applying a preload force to the inner traces. [Chronova Engineering], however, has a different solution, for which he split a ball bearing in half.

Besides taking up more room, thermal expansion also means that it’s difficult to apply a consistent preload force between two ball bearings. Instead, to make a self-contained preloaded bearing, [Chronova Engineering] first disassembled a single ball bearing. The most difficult part of this is taking apart the ball cage; the two parts of this are normally riveted together, but he managed to find a crimped cage and pry it apart. After taking the bearing completely apart, he cut the outer trace in half along the circumference, then reassembled the bearing. The split outer trace makes it possible to press the two halves together, preloading it and removing slop.

To see how well this worked, [Chronova Engineering] replaced the the ball bearing supporting one end of the feed screw for a milling machine with this new bearing. Before the replacement, it had a backlash of 0.1 to 0.2 millimeters; after the modification, it dropped to 30 to 40 microns. This kind of bearing is already known in the machining world – four-point-contact bearings use a very similar principle – but they don’t seem to be well known.

For more about these common yet remarkable rotary mechanisms, check out our article on bearings. If, on the other hard, precision isn’t a priority, you can always 3D print ball bearings.

A lightning strike is shown striking the ground at close range (fewer than thirty feet away).

Triggering Lightning With A Rocket

Lightning, despite being a common and readily-detected phenomenon, is nevertheless difficult to study. One reason is the difficulty of predicting when and where lightning will strike; tall structures do attract more lightning strikes, but it’s hard to move them into a storm’s path. Instead, researchers often use small rockets carrying a fine wire to trigger strikes, an approach [Electron Impressions] recently replicated (more details).

The science of this is less than straightforward: even in calm weather, there’s a surprisingly strong atmospheric electric field, about 100 volts per meter off the ground. During a thunderstorm, though, this can build up to kilovolts per meter, and may reverse polarity. When an updraft carries supercooled water, ice crystals, and graupel (ice particles formed by supercooled water freezing on a snowflake) upwards, the heavier graupel falls relative to the other components. As it collides with ice crystals, it builds up a negative charge and the crystals accumulate a positive charge; across a storm, this leads to positive charge building up near the top of clouds and negative charge near the bottom. Lightning equalizes this imbalance. In the relatively few cloud-to-ground strikes, a dielectric breakdown begins from both sides of the stroke, with leaders rising from the ground and descending from the cloud. The wire trailed by a rocket creates an artificial leader, ideally triggering a controlled strike.

To consistently get a strike, the rocket needs to be launched under a strongly-negatively-charged region of the cloud. An electric field mill measures the local field strength; these are usually quite expensive, but [Electron Impressions] managed to build his own. The rocket itself was 3D printed and designed to fly well under stormy conditions. It carried a strand of thin copper wire wound onto a plastic spool meant to minimize friction and prevent broken wires. The rocket’s igniter was waterproofed for storm conditions and remotely triggered using a walkie-talkie for safety.

After many attempts, [Electron Impressions] finally managed to trigger a strike and video the results. The first stroke created a plasma channel, along which several more strokes followed. This indicated that the cloud had probably been negatively charged, which was in agreement with the field mill’s measurements. The wind blew the plasma channel slightly to the side, where it caused a second rocket to explode on the ground. Both ignition systems were destroyed, and the remains of the rocket were never found. Sadly, the strike doesn’t seem to have formed a fulgurite, but it did fracture the ground as water flash-boiled.

For a more reusable solution, some researchers have also experimented with using drones to trigger lightning. There’s good reason for more study; the theory of lightning formation still has some major open questions.

Continously Extruding 3D Printed Tubes With Compressed Air

[Jan] of [Roetz 4.0] has a unique approach to multi-material 3D printing: he’s designed an extruder which takes two different materials and extrudes one as a shell around the other. This opens up some interesting possibilities, such as a conductive filament surrounded by an insulating shell; [Jan], however, didn’t have an immediate use for the process, so he moved on to a related technique: extruding plastic tubes with a compressed-air core.

The extruder he used for this was a variation on the dual-material extruder; it takes in two strands of filament, melts them, and extrudes them as a shell around the outlet of a compressed-air line, which was controlled by a high-precision pressure regulator. During testing with PLA, it seemed capable of extruding airtight tubes of filament, though it had a tendency to blow bubbles and form tubes with inconsistent diameters. The low thermal conductivity of the stainless steel extruder also proved problematic; coupled with the cooling effect of the compressed air, filament sometimes solidified inside the extruder.

[Jan] found it almost impossible to get consistent results using only pressure-based control; as the layer of molten plastic around the air gets thinner, it provides less resistance to further ballooning, leading to continuous expansion until the bubble bursts. Controlling the volume of air extruded provided much more consistent results, and in a second video, he built a peristaltic pump to do just that. He also switched to using TPU filament, which greatly improved layer adhesion. When inflated with compressed air, the finished TPU structures expanded slightly, though there were still air leaks. The results look promising, and TU Darmstadt has already carried out some research in this area.

In a separate research project, we’ve seen a similar multi-material co-extrusion approach used to print pneumatic channels. For more on the history of [Jan]’s multi-filament extruder, check out his Minuteman printer. Continue reading “Continously Extruding 3D Printed Tubes With Compressed Air”

A man's hand is shown adjusting a black Bakelite dial on the front panel of an instrument. The instrument is contained in a wooden box, and to the left of the box, a thermocouple is inserted into the flame of an alcohol burner.

Reading A Thermocouple With Mercury And A Potentiometer

If you’ve ever thought about the nomenclature of electrical components, potentiometer stands out as a strange name, etymologically suggesting something like a voltmeter. In fact, the component took its name from a voltage-measuring instrument also named the potentiometer. [Alnwlsn] recently took a look at one such device, which was integrated into a thermometer, and the Weston cell used to calibrate it.

The potentiometer (instrument) has a galvanometer at its heart. One side of the galvanometer is connected to the center lead of a potentiometer (component) which spans a voltage source; the other side is connected to a reference voltage. The potentiometer can be adjusted until no current flows through the galvanometer, at which point both sides match the reference voltage. The reference voltage source can then be replaced with some other source, which can then be measured relative to the reference by adjusting the potentiometer until both the voltages match. The reference voltage source is a Weston cell, which uses two mercury electrodes, one amalgamated with cadmium, to produce a stable 1.018 volt reference; despite being 74 years old, this particular cell still measured at 1.017 volts.

In this case, the potentiometer was made to measure the voltage produced by a thermocouple. After calibrating the potentiometer and connecting an iron-constantan thermocouple, [Alnwlsn] tested it with ice and boiling water, and in each case it proved accurate. In a more extreme test, it captured the temperature difference between the base and the tip of an alcohol flame.

For a bit more on the history of similar devices, check out the history of Weston Electrical Instruments.

Continue reading “Reading A Thermocouple With Mercury And A Potentiometer”