Parks on the Air
The desert air has just a hint of coolness to it. A thin morning overcast layer is holding back the strongest of the sun's rays that will surely bake this landscape by afternoon. We'll be long gone by then. To my right, my trusty Volkswagen Tiguan is doubling as counterpoise and five-foot tower, an HF whip magnetically mounted to the car top just in front of the tailgate hinge. On the card table at which I sit is an Icom IC-738, a 20 Ah LiFePO4 battery, an antenna tuner, and my J-38 code key. The desert stretches out beyond the table as far as I can see, tan sandstone dotted with the muted greens of Joshua trees, Mojave yuccas, shrubs, and cacti. Not wanting to break the morning's silence, I know I'll be using the code key for most—if not all—of the activation. I sweep through the CW portion of twenty meters and, as I suspected might be the case, the band is packed with contesters like a Chicago L train after a Cubs game. I unscrew the twenty meter whip, screw in the