While it’s the ideal choice for mass production, injection molding is simply no good for prototyping. The molds are expensive and time-consuming make, so unless you’ve got the funding to burn tens of thousands of dollars on producing new ones each time you make a tweak to your design, they’re the kind of thing you don’t want to have made until you’re absolutely sure everything is dialed in and ready. So how do you get to that point without breaking the bank?

That’s not always an easy question, but if you’re working with silicone parts, the team at OpenAeros thinks they might have a solution for you. As demonstrated through their OpenRespirator project, the team has developed a method of 3D printing single-use molds suitable for large silicone parts that they’re calling Digital-to-Silicone (D2S).

In the video below, [Aaron] and [Jon] explain that they started off by simply printing injection molds in the traditional style. This worked, but the molds can get quite complex, and the time and effort necessary to design and print them wasn’t a great fit for their iterative development cycle. They wanted to be able to do from design to prototype in a day, not a week.

Eventually they realized that if they printed the mold out of a water-soluble filament, they could simplify its design greatly. They’ve documented the design process in detail, but the short version is that you essentially subtract the 3D model of the design you want to produce from a solid shape in your CAD package, and add a few holes for injecting the silicone. Once the silicone has cured, the mold can be dissolved away in warm water to reveal the finished part.

They then took this concept a step further. Thanks to the multi-material capabilities offered by some of the latest 3D printers, it’s possible to print structures within the mold. Once the silicone is injected, these structures can become part of the finished part. For the OpenRespirator, this lets them add PETG stiffening rings around where the filters to snap into the silicone mask body.

As an added bonus, the video also goes over their method of prototyping pleated filters with 3D printed forms. After inserting the filter media, snap-in arms push it down into the valleys of the form to create the pleats. These are held in place with the addition of small metal rods that are attracted to the magnets embedded into the form. Once the top and bottom of the form have been closed over the filter, silicone is injected to create a ring around the filter and lock everything into place.

We often think of 3D printing as ideal for prototyping, but usually in a very direct and obvious way. You print out a part to see if it works the way you want, and then take the design and have it made out of something stronger. But this presentation from OpenAeros shows just how versatile the technology can be. With even a half-way decent desktop printer, the potential time and cost savings can be enormous. Something to keep in mind should one of your side projects turn into something bigger.

The bulbs inside scanners (before transitioning to LED, anyway) were cold cathode fluorescent tubes that emit a fairly wide bandwidth of light. They were purpose-built to produce a very specific type and shape of light, but [Julius Curt] has taken this in a new, upcycled direction. Instead of just producing light, the light itself is also part of the aesthetic. A very cool 3D printed case houses the bulb and power supply and smartly hides the connecting wires to achieve a very clean look.

Part of the design involves adding a DC-DC converter before the lamp driver, allowing fading of the light. This isn’t anything new in lamps, but [Julius] noticed an interesting effect when dimming the vertically oriented lamp: as the power was reduced, the column of light would start to extinguish from one end, leading to an elongated teardrop-shaped light source.

This leads to a very interesting look, and the neat case design leads to an extremely unique lamp! The emitted light’s color temperature seems to vary a bit as the voltage drops, going from what appears to be a pretty cold white to a slightly warmer tone.

The design process is detailed on the project page, with a quick look at the CAD design process for the case. A neat touch was using a greeble (part of a coffee grinder) to add some different textures and break up the plastic-only look. That’s one we’ll have to note in our design books!

Beyond the power variant, it sometimes seems as though we rarely encounter a discrete transistor these days, such has been the advance of integrated electronics. But they have a rich history, going back through the silicon era to germanium junction transistors, and thence to the original devices. if you’ve ever looked at the symbol for a transistor and wondered what it represents, it’s a picture of those earliest transistors, which were point contact devices. A piece of germanium as the base had two metal electrodes touching it as the emitter or collector, and as [Marcin Marciniak] shows us, you can make one yourself (Polish language, Google Translate link).

These home made transistors sacrifice a point contact diode to get the small chip of germanium, and form the other two electrodes with metal foil glued to paper. Given that germanium point contact diodes are themselves a rarity these days we’re guessing that some of you will be wincing at that. The video below is in Polish so you’ll have to enable YouTube’s translation if you’re an Anglophone — but we understand that the contact has to be made by passing a current through it, and is then secured with a drop of beeswax.

A slight surprise comes in how point contact transistors are used, unlike today’s devices their gain in common emitter mode was so poor that they took instead a common base configuration. There’s a picture of a project using three of them, a very period radio receiver with bulky transformers between all stages.

If you’re interested in more tales of home made early transistors, read our feature on Rufus Turner.

Thanks [Dr.Q.] for the tip.

Usually, when you need to sense something in a project, the answers are straightforward. Want to sense air temperature? There’s a sensor for that. Particulate content in the air? There’s a sensor for that, too. Someone sneaking up on you? Get yourself some passive infrared sensors (PIRs) and maybe a smart camera just to be sure.

But sometimes you can be sneaky instead, saving the cost of a sensor by using alternative techniques. Perhaps there’s a way to use the hardware you already have to determine what you need. Maybe you can use statistical methods to calculate the quantity you’re looking for from other measurements.

Today, we’ll examine a great example of a “pseudo-sensor” build in an existing commercial device, and examine how these techniques are often put to good use in industry.

Case Study

When they were introduced in 2009, Coca-Cola Freestyle dispensers were a step change in the way soft drinks were dispensed. Suddenly, you weren’t limited to five or six choices on the soda fountain. You could instead sample virtually the entire Coca Cola range, all on one machine! If you’re a big soda head, this was a very rad thing. If you were a maintenance tech for Coca Cola, though, you probably saw the machine differently — not as some godly fount of soda, but as a machine to be troubleshooted, repaired, and improved. Over time, it became obvious that the Freestyle unit had a high rate of Flow Control Module (FCM) replacements in the field. And yet, 50% of the FCMs returned to Coca Cola weren’t faulty. There was something strange going on.

The problem, as revealed in a presentation from the company, was that the Freestyle machine didn’t have a dedicated pressure sensor in the fluid line. If a machine had an FCM fault or a pressure loss, it would present much the same way. Thus, techs would often swap out a perfectly good FCM when the problem was actually elsewhere. The solution was obvious: there needed to be a way to sense pressure in the system, so techs could determine if an FCM was faulty or if the problem was a lack of pressure upstream.

To address this, an engineer might have specified an off-the-shelf pressure sensor, figured out how to retrofit it to the machine, and rolled them out in the wild. Instead, Coca-Cola developed an innovative (and presumably cheaper) solution: a  pressure pseudo-sensor, largely using equipment already on the machine.

The pseudo pressure sensor operates by analyzing the relationship between electrical and mechanical work within the FCM. Basically, the FCM is a valve that opens to allow the flow of fluid through the machine. Thus, the pseudo-sensor monitors the current at which the valve starts to move, a value that correlates with the pressure inside the system. As pressure increases, a characteristic V-shaped drop in current is observed; this pattern shifts as pressure changes, allowing the system to estimate the pressure based on the observed current.

To create the pseudo-sensor, a whole lot of data was collected from the Freestyle hardware. Over 5,000 drink pours were performed with a number of FCM modules, at pressures from 1 to 140 pounds per square inch (PSI) at 5 PSI intervals. The data collected during testing was then fed into MATLAB and Simulink in order to create a mathematical model. The aim was to link the peak size of the current feedback voltage dip measured by the current sensor, and link that to pressure. Sadly, a good reliable correlation was hard to come by.

More work ensued, which tied pressure to multiple timing and voltage features on the curve. These were fed into a multi-variable regression that spat out a monstrous model that calculated pressure from six features and 26 terms. It was messy, but far more accurate, and it did the job.

From there, it was a simple matter of deploying the model that measured FCM current and spat our pressure measurements. It was loaded on an ARM Cortex M microcontroller and put through 3,300 tests over 10 different FCMs and two different Freestyle controller boards. The model predicted the correct pressure within a bound of +/- 10 PSI a full 85% of the time.

Admittedly, that would be rubbish for a proper pressure sensor. However, for a simple pseudo-sensor that’s mostly just used to see if there’s pressure in the system? It’s pretty darn good. The pseudo-sensor software has since been deployed on Freestyle machines in the field, with work ongoing to further develop the system’s diagnostics using this new tool.

Other Examples

The simple fact is that you can often get by with indirect measurement techniques if you’re constrained by things like cost, complexity, or practicality. We’ve seen other work along these very lines before. Back in 2022, we covered the work of Brian Wyld, who wanted to measure the level of a body of water. Pressure and direct surface-level sensors were impractical, so he got creative. He built a rotating arm with a float on one side, and threw on a microcontroller board with an accelerometer included. The accelerometer readings were enough to allow him to figure out the angle of the float, and in turn, mathematically derive the water level as desired via simple geometry!

We’ve also seen how this can go wrong. For example, capacitive sensors are often suggested for measuring soil moisture levels. The idea is that by measuring the capacitance of the soil, you can measure how much water content there is. The only problem is that moisture isn’t the only thing that changes the capacitance of the soil.

For these indirect techniques to work well, what you’re measuring needs to have a fairly direct correlation with what you’re trying to find out. Hence why Wyld’s float was a success — because the float angle is directly relevant to the water level. Similarly, in Coca-Cola’s case, pressure was what determined the change in the current curve of the Freestyle FCM. If the curve also changed significantly with ambient temperature or some other factor, it wouldn’t be possible to measure it and get out a reliable pressure value.

Ultimately, pseudo-sensors can be a useful tool to have in your engineering toolkit. They can let you achieve surprising feats with some mathematical insight and basic equipment. Just make sure there’s a strong basis for what you’re doing so you don’t end up with junk outputs that cause you more harm than good.

These days, it’s super-easy to jump onto the World Wide Web to find purported replacement parts using nothing but the part identifier, whether it’s from a reputable source like Digikey or Mouser or from more general digital fleamarkets like eBay and AliExpress. It’s hardly a secret that many of the parts you can buy online via fleamarkets are not genuine. That is, the printed details on the package do not match the actual die inside. After AliExpress-sourced MOSFETs blew in a power supply repair by [Learn Electronics Repair], he first tried to give the MOSFETs the benefit of the doubt. Using an incandescent lightbulb as a current limiter, he analyzed the entire PSU circuit before putting the blame on the MOSFETs (IRFP460) and ordering new ones from LCSC.

Buying from a distributor instead of a marketplace means you can be sure the parts are from the manufacturer. This means that when a part says it is a MOSFET with specific parameters, it almost certainly is. A quick component tester session showed the gate threshold of the LCSC-sourced MOSFETs to be around 3.36V, while that of the AliExpress ‘IRFP460’ parts was a hair above 1.8V, giving a solid clue that whatever is inside the AliExpress-sourced MOSFETs is not what the package says it should be.

Unsurprisingly, after fitting the PSU with the two LCSC-sourced MOSFETs, there was no more magic smoke, and the PSU now works. The lesson here is to be careful buying parts of unknown provenance unless you like magic smoke and chasing weird bugs.

NEMA-17 steppers are (almost) a dime a dozen. They’re everywhere, they’re well-known to hackers and makers, and yet they’re still a bit hard to integrate into projects. That’s because the motor alone isn’t much use, and by the time you find or build a driver and integrate it with a microcontroller, you’ve probably expended more effort than you will on the rest of the project. This USB-C PD stepper driver aims to change that.

What caught our eye about [Josh Rogan]’s PD Stepper is his effort to make this a product rather than just a project. The driver is based on a TMC2209 for silent operation and a lot of torque thanks to the power delivery capabilities of USB-C PD. The PCB is very nicely designed and has an AS5600 rotary magnetic encoder for closed-loop operation. There’s also an ESP32-S3 on-board, so WiFi and Bluetooth operation are possible — perfect for integration into Home Assistant via ESPHome.

[Josh]’s mechanical design is top-notch, too, with a machined aluminum spacer that fits on the back of a NEMA-17 motor perfectly and acts as a heat spreader. A machined polycarbonate cover protects the PCB and makes a very neat presentation. [Josh] has kits available, or you can roll your own with the provided build files.

The new Raspberry Pi Pico 2 with its RP2350 microcontroller has only been with us for a short time, and thus its capabilities are still being tested. One of the new peripherals is HSTX, for which the description “High speed serial port” does not adequately describe how far it is from the humble UART which the name might suggest. CNX Software have taken a look at its capabilities, and it’s worth a read.

With a 150 MHz clock and 8 available pins, it’s a serial output with a combined bandwidth of 2400 Mbps, which immediately leaves all manner of potential for streamed outputs. On the RP2040 for example a DVI output was made using the PIO peripherals, while here the example code shows how to use these pins instead. We’re guessing it will be exploited for all manner of pseudo-analogue awesomeness in the manner we’re used to with the I2S peripherals on the EP32. Of course, there’s no corresponding input, but that still leaves plenty of potential.

Have a quick read of our launch coverage of the RP2350, and the Pico 2 board it’s part of.

To drive a MOSFET requires more than merely a logic level output, there’s a requirement to charge the device’s gate which necessitates a suitable buffer amplifier. A variety of different approaches can be taken, from a bunch of logic buffers in parallel to a specialised MOSFET driver, but [Mr. T’s Design Graveyard] is here with a surprising alternative. As it turns out, the ever-useful 555 timer chip does the job admirably.

It’s a simple enough circuit, the threshold pin is pulled high so the output goes high, and the PWM drive from an Arduino is hooked up to the reset pin. A bipolar 555 can dump a surprising amount of current, so it’s perfectly happy with a MOSFET. We’re warned that the CMOS variants don’t have this current feature, and he admits that the 555 takes a bit of current itself, but if you have the need and a 555 is in your parts bin, why not!

This will of course come as little surprise to anyone who played with robots back in the day, as a 555 or particularly the 556 dual version made a pretty good and very cheap driver for small motors. If you’ve ever wondered how these classic hips work, we recently featured an in-depth look.

If you have a late-model laptop, you’ve probably seen how the chargers magnetically snap into place. In theory, this should be easy to recreate for your own purposes. But why reinvent the wheel when [DarthKaker] has already done the work for you — assuming you only need two conductors.

The 3D-printed shells take the usual round magnets. Obviously, the north pole on one part should point to the south pole on the other part. In addition, if polarity matters, you should also have each housing contain one north-facing and one south-facing magnet so that the connectors will only mate one way.

It appears the project uses wires soldered or spot welded to the magnets. Heating magnets sometimes has bad effects, so we might try something different. For example, you could solder the wires to thin washers affixed to the magnets with epoxy, perhaps. Or use the magnets for alignment and make a different arrangement for the contacts, although that would take a different shell design.

We have talked about magnet soldering for connectors before. Don’t forget that you can build magnets into your prints, too.

We’ve all heard about the perils of counterfeit chips, and more than a few of us have probably been bitten by those scruple-free types who run random chips through a laser marker and foist them off as something they’re not. Honestly, we’ve never understood the business model here — it seems like the counterfeiters spend almost as much time and effort faking chips as they would just getting the real ones. But we digress.

Unfortunately, integrated circuits aren’t the only parts that can be profitably faked, as [Amateur Hardware Repair] shows us with this look at questionable tantalum capacitors. In the market for some tantalums for a repair project, the offerings at AliExpress proved too tempting to resist, despite being advertised alongside 1,000 gram gold bars for $121 each. Wisely, he also ordered samples from more reputable dealers like LCSC, DigiKey, and Mouser, although not at the same improbably low unit price.

It was pretty much clear where this would be going just from the shipping. While the parts houses all shipped their tantalums in Mylar bags with humidity indicators, with all but LCSC including a desiccant pack, the AliExpress package came carefully enrobed in — plastic cling wrap? The Ali tantalums were also physically different from the other parts: they were considerably smaller, the leads seemed a little chowdered up, and the package markings were quite messy and somewhat illegible. But the proof is in the testing, and while all the more expensive parts tested fine in terms of capacitance and equivalent series resistance, the caps of unknown provenance had ESRs in the 30 milliohm range, three to five times what the reputable caps measured.

None of this is to say that there aren’t some screaming deals on marketplaces like AliExpress, Amazon, and eBay, of course. It’s not even necessarily proof that these parts were in fact counterfeit, it could be that they were just surplus parts that hadn’t been stored under controlled conditions. But you get what you pay for, and as noted in the comments below the video, a lot of what you’re paying for at the parts houses is lot tracebility.

In the early days, PNP bipolar transistors were common, but the bulk of circuits you see today use NPN transistors. As [Aaron Danner] points out, many people think PNP transistors are “backward” but they have an important role to play in many circuits. He explains it all in a recent video you can see below.

He does explain why PNP transistors don’t perform as well as corresponding NPN transistors, but they are still necessary sometimes. Once you get used to it, they are no problem to handle at all. Common cases where you want a PNP are, for example, when you want to switch a voltage instead of a ground. There are also certain amplifier configurations that need PNP units.

Like an NPN transistor, a PNP can operate in saturation, linear operation, reverse active, or it can be cut off. [Aaron] shows you how to bias a transistor and you’ll see it isn’t much different from an NPN except the base-emitter diode junction is reversed.

As you might expect, current has to flow through that diode junction to turn the transistor on. The arrow points in the direction of the diode junction. If you want a refresher on transistor biasing, we got you. Sure, you don’t need to do it every day now, but it still is a useful skill to have.

[The Engineering Experience] has an ambitious series of videos. He’s working through circuit examples from the awesome book “The Art of Electronics.” In the latest installment, he’s looking at a pulse generator that uses bipolar transistors. So far, there are 43 videos covering different exercises.

If you’ve read the book — and you should — you know the examples and exercises sometimes have little explanation. Honestly, that’s good. You should try to work through them yourself first. But once you have an idea of how it works, hearing someone give their take on it may help you out. In fact, even if you don’t have the book, we’d suggest pausing the video and looking at the circuit to see what you can figure out before playing the explanation. You’ll learn more that way.

Admittedly, some of the early videos will be cakewalks for Hackaday readers. The first few, for example, walk through parallel and series resistors. However, if you are starting out or just want a refresher, you can probably enjoy all of them. The later ones get a bit more challenging.

If you want to double-check your work, you can simulate the circuit, too. Our simulation got 4.79 V and he computed 4.8, which is certainly close enough.

We do love “The Art of Electronics.” The book’s author also enjoys listening for aliens.

Arguably the greatest strength of the Raspberry Pi is the ecosystem — it’s well-supported by its creators and the aftermarket. At the same time, the proliferation of different boards has made things more complicated over the years. Thankfully, though, the community is always standing by to help fix any problems. [Rastersoft] has stepped up in this regard, solving an issue with the Raspberry Pi 5 and DSI screen cables.

The root cause is that the DSI cable used on the Raspberry Pi 5 has changed relative to earlier boards. This means that if you use the Pi 5 with many existing screens and DSI cables, you’ll find your flat ribbon cable gets an ugly twist in it. This can be particularly problematic when using the cables in tight cases, where they may end up folded, crushed, or damaged.

[Rastersoft] got around this by designing a new cable that avoided the problem. It not only solves the twist issue, but frees up space around the CPU if you wish to use a cooler. Thanks to modern PCB houses embracing flexible boards, it’s easy to get it produced, too.

This is a great example of the democratization of PCB and electronics production in general. 20 years ago, you wouldn’t be able to make a flex cable like this without ordering 10,000 of them. Today, you can order a handful for your own personal use, and share the design with strangers on a whim. Easy, huh? It’s a beautiful world we live in.

Today’s memory sticks have hundreds of pins and many gigabytes of RAM on board. Decades ago, though, the humble 30-pin SIMM was the state of the art where memory was concerned. If you’ve got vintage gear, you can try and hunt down old RAM, or you can copy [Bits und Bolts] and make your own.

Previously, [Bits und Bolts] built a 4 MB SIMM, but he’s now ramped up to building 16 MB RAM sticks — the largest size supported by the 30-pin standard. That’s a ton compared to most 30-pin sticks from the 1980s, which topped out at a feeble 1 MB.

We get to see four of his 16 MB sticks installed in a 386 motherboard, set up to operate in the appropriate Fast Page Mode. He was able to get the system operating with 64 MB of RAM, an amount still considered acceptable in the early Pentium 3 era. Hilariously, memtest took a full ten hours to complete a single pass with this configuration. [Bits and Bolts] also tried to push the motherboard further, but wasn’t able to get it to POST with over 64 MB of RAM.

As [Bits und Bolts] demonstrates, if you can read a schematic and design a PCB, it’s not that hard to design RAM sticks for many vintage computers. We’ve seen some other RAM hacks in this vein before, too.