Write Here #3: Burn to Learn
We wrapped our hands around technology, then it started moving.
As a budding technologist, my final project at the Mechatronics and Robotics program was a tensile tester. In short, it’s a machine that would test the strength of various materials that would either compress or stretch until failure. My partner and I did not do much in terms of altering the mechanics as the current structure was capable of 1000 lbs loads. As important as that piece of technology was to me and my educational development, the real star was a small 10 Ω resistor.
The tensile tester was a relic from the 1980s. For perspective, during the late ’90s, the company that developed the tensile tester created a program for interacting with it compatible with the latest and greatest Windows 95. To make the system usable, the tensile tester electronics were stripped out and replaced. We were not the first group to attempt this project.
I’m not actually sure how many groups did working on that project before our attempt in 2017. When we first started working on the project, it was a lot more analysis and troubleshooting than development. We just wanted to see what we were working with. A Raspberry Pi, some perforated prototype boards with ICs wired up, and a DIY power supply and motor controller.
We turned on the Raspberry Pi and ran some code we found. We were able to get the tensile tester to move. It seems that the project is much further along than we thought since the movement was already working.
With the tensile tester plugged in, we noticed something strange. Without running any commands, the tensile tester would continue to move. We realized touching the frame was causing the system to operate. “No MIRACLES” was how we were taught to deal with phenomena. It was absurd, like an advanced piece of tech with touch sensors. The only obvious thing was that the tensile tester was not grounded electrically at all.
While we were busy, speculating, laughing, and definitely learning, the system sparked, with a hint of smoke catching our noses.
We broke it. Well, as much as you can break something that turns a 90 VDC motor with touch. This is where the journey of having things not work and then making it work would begin. At first, the project seemed like we were only going to be filling in the holes for the remainder of the term. Instead, we would be turning over every stone to reveal the mysteries we would encounter. This was just the first thing to break.
The next day, took off the back cover to view the scene of the crime. A 10 Ω resistor, burnt to a crisp. To patch the issue, my partner soldered a wire to short the connection as the resistor did not seem necessary for operation.
Eventually, the Raspberry Pi and the homemade power supply were next in line to be removed. It was clear to us that analyzing the previous attempt with all its quirks was going to be much more time-consuming and difficult than coming up with our solution. We would continue to learn more details up until the night before the project expo where the operation of our project would be on display.
Burning that resistor was significant to me because it sparked (hah) a chain of events that would define our “No miracle” approach. This project remains one of the most significant experiences of my life. We faced numerous challenges and were quite burnt out ourselves. We may have drunk too many Rockstars but in the end, we crushed it.
