Have you ever wondered how a magnetometer works? We sure have, which was why we were happy to stumble upon this article on simple homebrew fluxgate magnetometers.

As [Maurycy] explains, clues to how a fluxgate magnetometer works can be found right in the name. We all know what happens when a current is applied to a coil of wire wrapped around an iron or ferrite core — it makes an electromagnet. Wrap another coil around the same core, and you’ve got a simple transformer.

Now, power the first coil, called the drive coil, with alternating current and measure the induced current on the second, or sense coil. Unexpected differences between the current in the drive coil and the sense coil are due to any external magnetic field. The difference indicates the strength of the field. Genius!

For [Maurycy]’s homebrew version, binocular ferrite cores were stacked one on top of each other and strung together with a loop of magnet wire passing through the lined-up holes in the stack. That entire assembly formed the drive coil, which was wrapped with copper foil to thwart eddy currents. The sense coil was made by wrapping another length of magnet wire around the drive coil package; [Maurycy] found that this orthogonal of coils worked better than an antiparallel coil setup at reducing interference from the powerful drive coil field.

Driving the magnetometer required adding a MOSFET amp to give a function generator a little more oomph. [Maurycy] mentions that scope probes will attenuate the weak sense coil current, so we assume that the sense coil output goes right into the oscilloscope via coax. Calibrating the instrument was accomplished with a homebrew coil and some simple calculations.

This was a great demo of magnetometry methods and some of the intricacies of measuring weak fields with simple instruments. We’ve covered fluxgate magnetometer basics before and even talked about how they made pre-GPS car navigation possible.

Nowadays, if you want to delay an audio signal for, say, an echo or a reverb, you’d probably just do it digitally. But it wasn’t long ago that wasn’t a realistic option. Some devices used mechanical means, but there were also ICs like the TCA350 “bucket brigade” device that [10maurycy10] shows us in a recent post.

In this case, bucket brigade is a euphemism calling to mind how firemen would pass buckets down the line to put out a fire. It’s a bit of an analog analogy. The “bucket” is a MOSFET and capacitor. The “water” is electrical charge stored in the cap.  All those charges are tiny snippets of an analog signal.

In practice, the chip has two clock signals that do not overlap. The first one gates the signal to a small capacitor which follows the input signal voltage. Then, when that gate clock closes, the second clock gates that output to another identical capacitor. The second capacitor discharges the first one and the whole process repeats, sometimes for hundreds of times.

In addition to a test circuit and some signals going in and out, the post also shows photomicrographs of the chip’s insides. As you might expect, all those identical gates make for a very regular layout on the die.

You might think these devices are obsolete, and that’s true. However, the basic idea is still in use for CCD camera sensors.

Sometimes, those old delay lines were actually columns of mercury or coiled-up transmission lines. You could even use a garden hose or build your own delay line memory.

Sometimes, it’s nice to know how windy it is outside. Knowing the direction of the wind can be a plus, too. To that end, [Sebastian Sokołowski] built himself an unusual anemometer—a wind gauge—to feed into his smart home system.

[Sebastian’s] build is able to tell both wind speed and direction—and with no moving parts! Sort of, anyway. That makes the design altogether different from the usual cup type anemometers with wind vanes that you might be used to seeing on home weather stations. [Sebastian] wanted to go a different route—he wanted a sensor that wouldn’t be so subject to physical wear over time.

The build relies on strain gauges. Basically, [Sebastian] 3D printed a sail-like structure that will flex under the influence of the wind. With multiple strain gauges mounted on the structure, it’s possible to determine the strength of the wind making it flex and in what direction. [Sebastian] explains how this is achieved, particularly involving the way the device compensates for typical expansion and contraction due to temperature changes.

It’s a really unique way to measure wind speed and direction; we’d love to learn more about how it performs in terms of precision, accuracy, and longevity—particularly with regards to regular mechanical and ultrasonic designs. We’ll be keeping a close eye on [Sebastian’s] work going forward. Video after the break.

If you have a metal lathe just looking for some work, why not make your own lock nuts? That’s what [my mechanics insight] did when faced with a peculiar lock nut that needed replacing in a car. We can’t decide what we enjoyed more in the video you can watch below: the cross-section cut of a lock nut or the oddly calming videos of the new nut being turned on a lathe.

The mystery of the lock nut, though, isn’t how it works. The nylon insert is just a little too small for the bolt, and the bolt, being harder than nylon, taps a very close-fitting hole in the nylon as you tighten it. The real mystery is how that nylon got in there to start with.

As the video shows, you fabricate the nut with an open area to accept the nylon ring. Then, you use a tool to crimp the edges down to trap the ring. The video shows all the pieces being made: the nut, the ring, and the crimping tool.

As you might deduce, the crimping tool has to be harder than the nut material, so that takes some extra effort. But all the work is done on the lathe except the crimping. He uses a vise, but we’d imagine that an arbor press is more commonly used.

Lock washers and nuts seem like a simple topic, but it is way more complex than you probably thought. Way more complex.

Thanks to [the gambler] for the tip!

[Matthias] bought cheap clip leads online and, wisely, decided to check them. We’ve had the same experience that he’s had. Sometimes, these cheap leads are crimped and don’t make good contact. However, you can usually solder them and completely fix them. Not this time, however, as you can see in the video below.

The resistance for the leads was a bit on the high side, which is usually a sure sign of this problem. But soldering didn’t really make a big difference. A homemade clip lead, for example, read under 20 milliohms, but a test lead from the new batch read about 260 milliohms even after being soldered.

A thermal camera indicated the problem was actually the wire. At first, he thought the wire was just very thin. While it was thin, that wasn’t the real problem. The wire looked normal enough, but sanding the wire showed that it might be only copper-coated. Turns out, a magnet would grip the clip leads meaning they were iron wires coated with copper.

We were amazed at how many leads he was able to find with iron in them, primarily those with clips on at least one end. Oddly, mouse cables were also magnetic.

So, the lesson is to test the resistance and pass a magnet over those wires. Depending on your application, a few hundred milliohms might not matter. But you should at least know that some of your clip leads may have an order-of-magnitude difference in conductivity.

If you need an easy milliohmeter, there are plenty of options. You can even just haywire something up on a breadboard, or — like in the video — use a 1A current and measure millivolts.

We say this with the greatest respect, but [Joel] — your exercise routine is horrible! Kudos for getting up and doing something, but 108 trips up and down the stairs? That sounds like torture, not exercise. Even [Joel] admits that it’s so boring that he loses count, and while we’d bet that he isn’t likely to restart the routine when that happens, it’s still annoying enough that he built this clever little lap counter to automate the task.

We kid, of course; any exercise is better than no exercise, and the stairs offer few excuses for skipping the daily workout. To bust the boredom problem, [Joel] toyed with a couple of ideas for toting up his laps before landing on a beam-break optical system with sensors at the top and the bottom of the stairs. Worried about the potential for false triggering by swinging arms and legs, he searched for ideas for bounceless switch circuits in the old “Engineer’s Notebook” by [Forrest Mims] and found a circuit close enough to modify for his needs. Each sensor setup has a high-output red LED and a phototransistor on one side of the stairwell, and a retroreflector on the opposite wall. Breaking the beam switches off the LED on that sensor and switches the other one on, to save on battery power.

The sensor’s flips and flops are counted and displayed on a three-digit seven-segment LED; [Joel] offers no detail on the counter itself, but with [Mims] as his muse, we suspect it’s something like the three-digit BCD counter circuit a few pages on from the bounceless switch circuit. The lap counter is shown in action in the brief video below.

If you need to measure the temperature of something, chances are good that you could think up half a dozen ways to do it, pretty much all of which would involve some kind of thermometer, thermistor, thermocouple, or other thermo-adjacent device. But what if you need to measure something really hot, hot enough to destroy your instrument? How would you get the job done then?

Should you find yourself in this improbable situation, relax — [Anthony Francis-Jones] has you covered with this calorimetric method for measuring high temperatures. The principle is simple; rather than directly measuring the temperature of the flame, use it to heat up something of known mass and composition and then dunk that object in some water. If you know the amount of water and its temperature before and after, you can figure out how much energy was in the object. From that, you can work backward and calculate the temperature the object must have been at to have that amount of energy.

For the demonstration in the video below, [F-J] dangled a steel ball from a chain into a Bunsen burner flame and dunked it into 150 ml of room-temperature water. After a nice long toasting, the ball went into the drink, raising the temperature by 27 degrees. Knowing the specific heat capacity of water and steel and the mass of each, he worked the numbers and came up with an estimate of about 600°C for the flame. That’s off by a wide margin; typical estimates for a natural gas-powered burner are in the 1,500°C range.

We suspect the main source of error here is not letting the ball and flame come into equilibrium, but no matter — this is mainly intended as a demonstration of calorimetry. It might remind you of bomb calorimetry experiments in high school physics lab, which can also be used to explore human digestive efficiency, if you’re into that sort of thing.

If you’re like us, you’ve got at least one bin dedicated to keeping the random hardware you just can’t bear to part with. In our case it’s mostly populated with the nuts and bolts left over after finishing up a car repair, but however it gets filled, it’s a mess. The degree to which you can tolerate this mess will vary, but for [EmGi], even a moderately untidy pile of bolts was enough to spur this entirely 3D-printed mechanical bolt sorter.

The elements of this machine bear a strong resemblance to a lot of the sorting mechanisms we’ve seen used on automated manufacturing and assembly lines. The process starts with a hopper full of M3 cap head bolts of varying lengths, which are collated by a pair of elevating platforms. These line up the bolts and lift them onto a slotted feed ramp, which lets them dangle by their heads and pushes them into a fixture that moves them through a 90° arc and presents them to a long sorting ramp. The ramp has a series of increasingly longer slots; bolts roll right over the slots until they find the right slot, where they fall into a bin below. Nuts can also feed through the process and get sorted into their own bin.

What we like about [EmGi]’s design is its simplicity. There are no motors, bearings, springs, or other hardware — except for the hardware you’re sorting, of course. The entire machine is manually powered, so you can just grab a handful of hardware and start sorting. True, it can only sort M3 cap head bolts, but we suspect the design could be modified easily for other sizes and styles of fasteners. Check it out in action in the video below.

Just because it’s simple doesn’t mean we don’t like more complicated hardware sorters, like the ones [Christopher Helmke] builds.

Thanks to [john] for the tip.

Nerf blasters are fun and all, but they’re limited by the fact they have to be safe for children to play with. [Flasutie] faced no such restrictions when building his giant 40 mm foam dart launcher, and it’s all the better for it.

This thing is sizeable—maybe two to four times bigger than your typical Nerf blaster. But that’s no surprise, given the size of the foam ammunition it fires. [Flasutie] shows us the construction process on how the 3D-printed blaster is assembled, covering everything from the barrel and body assembly to the chunky magazine. Loading each round into the chamber is a manual process, vaguely akin to a bolt-action mechanism, but simplified.

It’s the method of firing that really caught our eye, though. Each round has a cartridge and a foam projectile. Inside the cartridge is a quantity of flammable HHO gas generated, presumably, from water via electrolysis. The blaster itself provides power to a spark gap in the cartridge that ignites the gas, propelling the projectile through the barrel and out of the blaster.

We’ve seen plenty of Nerf blasters and similar builds around these parts, including some with a truly impressive rate of fire. Video after the break.

In general, the simpler a thing is, the better. That doesn’t appear to apply to engines, though, at least not how we’ve been building them. Pistons, cranks, valves, and seals, all operating in a synchronized mechanical ballet to extract useful work out of some fossilized plankton.

It doesn’t have to be that way, though, if the clever engineering behind this wobbling disk air engine is any indication. [Retsetman] built the engine as a proof-of-concept, and the design seems well suited to 3D printing. The driven element of the engine is a disk attached to the equator of a sphere — think of a model of Saturn — with a shaft running through its axis. The shaft is tilted from the vertical by 20° and attached to arms at the top and bottom, forming a Z shape. The whole assembly lives inside a block with intake and exhaust ports. In operation, compressed air enters the block and pushes down on the upper surface of the disk. This rotates the disc and shaft until the disc moves above the inlet port, at which point the compressed air pushes on the underside of the disc to continue rotation.

[Resetman] went through several iterations before getting everything to work. The main problems were getting proper seals between the disc and the block, and overcoming the friction of all-plastic construction. In addition to the FDM block he also had one printed from clear resin; as you can see in the video below, this gives a nice look at the engine’s innards in motion. We’d imagine a version made from aluminum or steel would work even better.

If [Resetman]’s style seems familiar, it’s with good reason. We’ve featured plenty of his clever mechanisms, like this pericyclic gearbox and his toothless magnetic gearboxes.

Seeing a heavy load slide around on nearly frictionless air bearings is pretty cool; it’s a little like how the puck levitates on an air hockey table. Commercial air bearings are available, of course, but when you can build these open-source air bearings, why bother buying?

One of the nice things about [Diffraction Limited]’s design is that these bearings can be built using only simple tools. No machining is needed past what can be easily accomplished with a hand drill, thanks to some clever 3D-printed jigs that allow you to drill holes with precision into stainless steel discs you can buy on the cheap. An extremely flat surface is added to the underside of these discs thanks to another jig, some JB Weld epoxy, and a sheet of float glass to serve as an ultra-flat reference. Yet more jigs make it easy to scribe air channels into the flat surface and connect them to the air holes through a bit of plaster of Paris, which acts as a flow restriction. The video below shows the whole process and a demo of the bearings in action.

[Diffraction Limited] mentions a few applications for these air bearings, but the one that interests us most is their potential use in linear bearings; a big CNC cutter using these air bearings would be pretty cool. We seen similar budget-friendly DIY air bearings before, including a set made from used graphite EDM electrodes.