A Winter’s Day at Maplewood Park
As the sun dipped low in the sky, the quiet hum of Maplewood Park was broken only by the soft crunch of snow underfoot. It had been an unusually cold December day, and the soft, gentle snowflakes continued to fall, dusting the world in a blanket of white. The park was peaceful, save for the occasional rustling of branches as a chilly breeze passed through. Hidden within a cluster of trees, a small amateur radio station was operating, tucked away at the edge of the park, with an operator hunched over his gear.
The operator, John, had been an enthusiast of ham radio for years. Today, he had set up his portable station using an Icom IC-705 transceiver, a lightweight but powerful tool capable of 10 watts output. He carefully attached his EFHW (End-Fed Half-Wave) antenna, which stretched across a tall Maple tree, its 20-meter length swaying gently in the wind. With the antenna positioned and his equipment powered on, he adjusted the settings on the Icom 705 and attached a small battery, ready for his operating session.
For John, this was a winter tradition—operating from local parks while the world outside was covered in snow, making contacts with fellow hams from around the world. The cold did not deter him; in fact, it only added to the charm.
He tuned the radio to 28.400 MHz, the 10-meter band. The noise of the snowstorm outside was replaced by the static of his radio as he adjusted the VFO, tuning carefully. His fingers were frozen, but the excitement of potential contacts kept his mind sharp.
Suddenly, the faintest signal broke through the static. A call from Europe!
“VE3IPS, VE3IPS, this is F5XYZ, calling from France, over!”
John’s heart raced, and his gloved hands worked quickly to adjust the microphone. “F5XYZ, this is VE3IPS, loud and clear! You’re 5-2 in Maplewood Park, Ontario, over!”
The operator on the other side, a French ham named Jacques, chuckled, his voice smooth through the static. “Ah, VE3IPS! John, my friend, You’re very strong today. The snow here in Paris is light, but I am sending you a 5-7! Your signal is perfect!”
They exchanged pleasantries about the weather, their mutual love for the hobby, and the simple joy of being able to connect over thousands of miles. John adjusted his antenna tuner, ensuring the best possible signal quality, while the snow outside continued to fall.
As Jacques signed off and the frequency cleared, John took a moment to appreciate the magic of radio. The snowflakes outside fell softly, the temperature had dropped significantly, and his breath was visible in the cold air, but it didn’t matter. He was doing something that only a few could truly appreciate—a small but vital connection to the world using just 10 watts of power.
Just as he was about to pack up, another call came in, this time from a German operator. “VE3IPS, this is DB1ABC, calling from Berlin! Over!”
“DB1ABC, VE3IPS, you’re 5-7, how’s the snow in Berlin?” John replied, his breath misting in the cold air as he spoke into the microphone.
The two exchanged signals, snow reports, and small talk as more and more European hams joined the 10-meter band. Each contact was brief but filled with the joy of shared experience, all tied together by the magic of amateur radio.
The session lasted for an hour, with John racking up a log full of contacts, each as thrilling as the last. By the time the final signal faded, the snow had built up thick on the ground, blanketing the park in pure white. John packed up his station, carefully disassembling the EFHW antenna and securing the Icom 705 for transport.
As he trudged through the snow back to his car, with a frozen nose, loss of feeling in his fingertips, a smile played on his lips. The winter chill, the soft snowflakes, and the incredible contacts across the Atlantic were all reminders of the wonder of ham radio—simple, accessible, and uniting people across vast distances.
Back at home, as John sat by the fire, he reflected on the evening. The park was still covered in snow, but for him, it would forever hold the memories of another successful operation: a reminder of how, with just 10 watts and a bit of gear, he could connect to the world, one snow-filled winter day at a time.
John VE3IPS
Hmmmmmm do I need a 25 foot whip….NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
ve3ips 