12 O’Clocker Epic Post

Damn. This past week -and-a-little has seen 12 O’Clocker basically go from a plate of aluminum to an essentially complete bot minus wiring. I’m making good time for Dragon*Con 2013 after all, it seems. In a slight departure from my usual day-by-day- updates, I’m going to make one single epic post capturing the construction up until yesterday or so. I tended to stay later than usual in the shop in the past days, and writing up daily posts would have pushed my already marginally stable bedtime out to a level which would have made interacting with anyone else… difficult.

As I mentioned previously, by the time I made the introductory post, I had already frozen the design and put most of the parts down on aluminum. The first stages of assembly were doing finishing machining on these parts, as well as machining that which I could not figure out how to waterjet. These days, my ‘style’ is reducing everything to a waterjettable or McMasterable condition and trying to minimize manual machining operations. After mechanical assembly was complete, I spent time figuring out where exactly the electrical components – batteries and RageBridges – will be mounted internally, and this is the stage of the bot right now. Here’s forty pictures (from #24 to #64!) for your amusement. I recommend packing drinking water and high-carb food supplies.

This is the final series of parts made for this bot – previous parts, seen in the upper regions of the picture, were rolled in with a waterjet-cutting session for the SUTD summer go-kart class (which I still owe a full writeup on, before I completely forget it!). In most respects, 12 O’Clocker is a pretty simple bot, and there were (relatively) few parts to be cut.

One thing which mystifies most people who see me waterjet is that I manually path everything. I started this habit some time in 2010 when I was getting tired of losing entire plates to the shoddy Autorouter built into OMAX Layout. When I manual-path, I instruct the machine to make one part at a time (holes and all), then move onto the next whole part, and I try to route in a fashion which does not cross over anything it cut before. Because the path includes only whole parts, the plate can accidentally shift (such as in the all-too-common nozzle collision with a pre-cut piece) and I may only lose that one part. The autorouter likes to do all the holes and internal features first for some reason, so if anything messes up, you usually lose the entire sheet. It took only one $200 write-off to permanently scare me into manual pathing. Additionally, I use the Tab function like a maniac, on anything that looks like it can stick up and bump the machine, and on all plastic parts.

This way, I can route an two-hour-plus long job, then practically go to sleep and then come back to find everything all good. Okay, so I don’t really go to sleep, since the machine still needs abrasive feeding.

So here’s everything! The obligatory picture of the pile of parts includes all the aforementioned waterjet-cut puzzle pieces, a few different motors, and Delrin balls.

I machined the black Garolite, my choice of robot covering, on low-pressure to avoid substantial delamination. I further suspended the Garolite on a piece of waterjet brick, which offers a much higher support density. Without these two addenda to the process, I’ve always had massive delamination from Garolite. In this plate, the delam is limited to areas around the holes and initial pierces.

I design the holes in these parts to be already on-size for finish tapping without having to redrill (usually). The first step in assembling a puzzlebot is to tap with threads that which needs to be threaded. Because all of the holes are necessarily thru-holes, it’s easy to chuck up a gun tap (spiral point tap) into a drill and then just go at it. I mixed up a little cup of machining coolant (high-lubricity oil-water suspension – a.k.a the juice that flows in every CNC porno) that I dunked the tap in after every part.

In the background is one of my collections of random cordless tool motors. I think there’s like 50 drills (most of which are parted totally down) and like 10 cordless saws in there.

Next up was machining down the main lift shaft bushings. My approach to live weapon axles is to make them huge, and usually this implies buying metal tube stock to use as shafting. Now, the difference between metal you buy as shaft and metal you buy as tube is that the former is implied to be precision-finished to a size under the nominal (i.e. a 3/4″ shaft might be .748″) so it for sure will fit through your bearings and other driven parts. Tubing has no such guarantee, and in fact is usually oversize. The cheap 3/4″ 6061 surplus tubing I purchased was a cool 5 thousandths oversize.

To compensate, I bore out the bronze bushings on a lathe beforehand – the dimension needed, plus a thousandth or so for the bearing squish fit into the housing. These days, Tinylathe is my tool of choice if only because it’s like 5 feet away.

There was one problem I ran into right away. I didn’t have the right bearing to support the lift motor shaft. I ordered it, but it most definitely didn’t come on time, and I was sort of itching to put this together instead of waiting for the parts. That, and I couldn’t find the 13-tooth sprocket I originally specified. Since 12 O’Clocker isn’t going into space or (ideally) poking around inside an organ, I decided to make a design change on the fly to adapt to the parts I had on hand.

The bearing was going to be a 6803 type, 17mm bore bearing to basically envelope the hub of the sprocket. The 13 tooth sprocket’s hub was just the right diameter to shave down a little and throw into a 17mm bearing.

I had on hand 12 tooth sprockets left over from the EV class, and a 6802 type bearing (15mm bore). I decided to machine an adapter to turn the 26mm 6803 housing into a 24mm 6802 housing, and machine down the smaller sprocket hub to 15mm. This increases the reduction of the lift arm just a hair, which is  differentially speaking to my benefit, since it would both slow down the lift another few % as well as reduce the required current to lift an opponent.

….but in the end, I just shoved a machined Delrin donut in it and called it a day. Didn’t even machine the sprocket.

This is a very slow-moving part already, and drill gearboxen already have bearings! The whole purpose of this bearing is just to reduce the bending load (versus shear load) on the shaft. It doesn’t need to be sophisticated, and can just be Delrin, the venerable bearing-grade plastic I had a few rods of. After spending all of 3 minutes on this, I moved on with my life.

Assembling the puzzlebot now.  The part precedence I designed in means I fasten together the center towers, then the U-braces on the ends, then finally shove the sides on. If you’re thinking of designing a puzzlebot, and don’t read anything else in this whole post, read this: all of these parts were cut on an artificially close nozzle offset so all external dimensions are about .005″ smaller, and all internal dimensions .005″ larger. This is a cheat code to account for the waterjet’s taper between entry and exit sides, something inevitable unless you are really rich-ass and have a taper-free or 5-axis cutting head.

If you don’t have the ability to run a custom offset, then you must design all the slots larger and tabs smaller in CAD. Or, you’re going to be miserable filing and grinding everything.

These parts required very light belt sanding to take off the burrs and tabs, and only in a few cases a hit to the thickness of the tabs.

I’m sort of round-robin machining parts here – in one round, me versus everything. I put the puzzlebot aside and tested the fit of the Angerboxes. Beforehand, I threw these gearcase models on a Dimension 1200ES machine to be made from ABS plastic.

It turns out that the drill gearbox CAD model I had used a smaller diameter ring gear by about 0.5mm than the ones I picked out from the Tomb of Tool Parts. These drills are usually similar enough to swap parts into each other, but different enough that any design involving them is going to jump your precision-havin’ ass in an alleyway. I had to machine down the ring gears a little to fit them.

After a radial pass, I sliced off just enough to contain one stage. These ring gears are made via sintering, so it turns to powder when machined. This is actually the sign of a shitty sintering job, but hey, $20 cordless drills.

6801 type (12mm) bearings support the 12mm drill spindles.

No, I’m not using those plastic gears – they were just the first things I grabbed from the Tomb of Tool Parts to test thickness fit.

After verifying that everything fit as designed, I put these gearboxes down and went to…

…the lifter gearbox. This is a totally stock 18v-native, 36:1 drill gearbox that I replaced the first stage gears with spare steel ones. The 12 tooth sprocket seen in previous pictures was bored out and threaded for its 3/8″-24 spindle. The long standoff piece at the end spaces out the reverse-thread M5 flat-head screw which typically locks a drill chuck in place.

Another blob of 3D printer poop with a drill gearbox shaped cutout will hold this motor in place. I basically made this mount to let me emulate the motor mount style used on Überclocker, which uses DeWut motors with side mounting holes. The generic drills don’t, so the sandwiching mount does.

Overly-long 1/4″-20 cap screws fixture the motor to its mounting cradle. In soft plastics (or at least, anything where $fastener_hardness >> $material_hardness), you generally want 3+ fastener diameters to take advantage of the material strength.

As a random aside, the recommendation for situations of comparable material strength (say aluminum threads with steel bolts) is one screw diameter, and materials of nearly equal strength just 4-5 threads. This is why steel nuts are usually made really skinny – count the threads on the inside of a typical machine nut some time.

The first pretend-o-bot! At this point, I was getting pretty damn excited to see this thing finished.

After the pretend-o-bot assembly, I moved on to the last item of the day, which was to put together the top clamp arm. This was a quick standoff assembly job.

I attached the end-effector, the rubber bumper, with a convenient chunk of 1/8″-wall aluminum square tube I snagged before getting to that part of the design.

The next window of progress was spent making some of the repetitive side parts. Seen here is my “sheet of every part drawing since they’re so damned simple anyway”. The majority of these are standoffs of various kinds.

The inter-fork spacers are designed to be made using some 3/8″ OD, .050 wall 6061 tubing. This was way better than the other option, which was to drill out all of those from a solid rod.

Pictured above are all the fork standoffs and two of the Angerbox output shafts in progress.

Axle pins attached. This is my first intentional foray into single-support wheels in a long time. Single-support wheels tend to last … not very long in combat, so I made everything here overkill. First, half-inch diameter axles on anything that weighs 12 pounds.

The 1/4″-20 bolts are unnecessarily long, to give the aluminum a stronger core, and the threads are actually embedded under a half inch of clearance hole as to preload most of the structure where the most stresses from impact will be seen.

It’s often these little unseen details which can make or break a design, and I’m really hoping for make this time.

Time to assemble the fork! Like Überclocker’s fork everything I build now? , this is just a pile of plates and standoffs…

…that looks like this. If there’s one lesson I have to summarize 2.00Gokart and the SUTD summer EV class with, it’s tighten your damn bolts. Untightened and unloaded structures are just flappy metal noodles.

Moving on now to the drive hubs, these are simple Delrin one-piece jobs. Since Tinylathe is too cute to contain a 1.25″ Delrin rod all the way through, I had to cut off chunks and sacrifice about 1/2″ of length off each to grab them.

The final machining step for these hubs is to purposefully chatter an endmill through them. Why? It’s once again the difference between buying shaft and buying metal rods. The aluminum rods I had standing by are just plain-finished loose-tolerance rods! They’re actually much larger than their nominal 0.5″ (more like 0.505-ish), because you’re supposed to machine them to something smaller with more precision.

Well, I didn’t have a .505 drill bit, nor an over-size reamer. Nor a boring bar long enough. The shortcut is to take a super-rigid cutter and purposefully guarantee it no center, so it just has to deal with it. I basically revved the spindle to full speed and manually shoved the thing through the center bore.

It made a terrifying screeching racket, but the end result was a bore crudely enlarged to about .510″ (varies greatly…)

Fits great though. Here’s 12 O’Clocker looking like someone stole its rims. In reality, I haven’t bored and machined the wheels yet.

The wheel assemblies were, again, designed to smash together quickly and template itself for finish machining. It has four parts – the wheel, a 1/8″ thick ring spacer, the sprocket, and the Delrin hub.

Here is one wheel as a test fit, and the clamp arm assembled on for looks. At this point, I called it a day for assembly because I discovered I ran out of 2″ long #4 screws. I needed long bolts to go through the wheel and spacer and into the threaded holes in the sprocket, acting as lug nuts.

I moved onto making the rest of the irritating small parts. Here are five blanks for the eggy-rolley-cam tensioners machined out.

Because they differed only in length, I lined them up one next to the other on the MITERS Bridgeport and drilled the off-center holes in one shot.

While downstairs, I revisited an old friend, the MITERS South Bend 10L, upon which many of my freshman and sophomore shenanigans were first performed. For how hard it gets wailed on by students, most of whom aren’t experience machinists, it’s never had any problems. 1950s style brute force tends to come out on top. I used the machine’s much larger swing to chamfer the tips of the main lift sprocket.

The MITERS lathe to me represents roughly the most useful machine size for the general hobbyist. It’s a nominal 10″ swing machine, with a 42″ bed, and a big through-bore. Tinylathe is too damned small, and the other machines in this building are enormous – 16″ and 19″ swing. I think the 10″ class has just enough feedback to enable really precise work on small parts, but can still contain sizeable workpieces like wheels and round plates. Plus, my favorite lathe (I have one, just like I have a favorite weird 1980s Japanese cargo van) is the Monarch 10EE, nominally a 10″ machine. Round dial, please.

Here’s a collection of little side parts. The shaft collars are for transmission of lift torque to the main lift fork, and you might notice on of them took me a few… tries. I tried taking eyeball and by-feel shortcuts on the Bridgeport right away again, but remembered about as fast why I only do that for machines I use every day and know exactly the recent alignment history of: because not everyone trams the head and squares the vise. Whoops.

Well, time to bust out the edge finders.

Fast forward to Day…. three? four? Whatever like 2 days ago was. I had dug out my box of 1.5″ long #4-40 screws, but they’re still too short!

Or are they? I decided to get this damned thing together, buy 2″ bolts later, and just counter-bore the shorter screws into the wheel for now, so they could still reach the other side.

So here we go. All 4 wheels counterbored up and installed!

Next comes the lift axle itself. The shaft collars are loosely scrwed into to the forks, the lift shaft slid through, then the screws tightened. The white residue on the shaft is a healthy dose of Teflon anti-seize paste. The reason is that this time, it’s aluminum shaft collars and an aluminum sprocket rubbing on an aluminum shaft. Without this intermediate layer, I would soon have a very curiously shaped solid aluminum modern art sculpture as all of the above galled into eachother and became one. The antiseize lets the clutching action of the clamp shaft collar still occur.

I maneuvered the lift chain tensioner into place and secured it for the time being. It will be adjusted out slowly as the bot wears in the lift chain.

Chains typically stretch a few tenths of a % shortly after installation as soon as they are loaded, since the burrs and high spots from manufacturing get worn down quickly. In my case, with so many custom sprockets, the net amount is a little more because I also have components besides the chains to wear in.

Here is a more detailed view of the eggy-rolley-cam tensioners. The ball bearings will directly push the chain (no intermediate sprocket teeth here).

The bearings themselves are type R1212 bearings, which is part of a series that is basically the 68xx of the English unit world. I’ve spent a long time searching for thin-section inch bearings that don’t cost $9000 each, and for the 1/2″ case, at least I have found the R1212. Apparently the other sizes (3/4″, etc…) are nonstandard and its code depends on the manufacturer. In contrast, searching ‘R1212 bearing’ gives me a world of generics.

With the tensioners ready for installation, I went hardcore after finishing the Angerboxes. The motors I ended up using are some unknown 12V (ish?) 550-class motors I found in a bin. The reason is because I’ve actually ran out of matching shitty 18v drill motors! I have a mishmash of gearboxes with motors, but I couldn’t find two matching 18v motors, especially not with the 36:1 standard 9 tooth pinions. Oddly enough, I have more 24:1 drills than 36:1, and this gearbox depended on the (far more common) latter pinion. I harvested some pinions from the Tomb of Tool Parts and pressed them on these motors.

Now that I’m running 12v motors, I’m actually going to drop back from the planned 8S (25.6v) system to a more sane 6S (19.2v) system. 30-lb Clocker does run a 8S-equivalent system, but with “real” motors which are 18v native anyway. A 12v to 24v overvolt in this case would have given me an unacceptably high top speed and would probably bake the motors in short order.

Three harvested, mismatching metal gears ride on the output pins, and the whole thing is closed from the back from harvested mismatching wear washers. I’m like the Iron Chef of making stuff from shitty drill parts. I did say that all of these drills tend to be the same enough…

Here’s one Angerbox closed up with another one awaiting. The shafts have milled flats (not quite visible) to aid in using set screws properly.

The first installation of all drive parts on one side is complete! This spent a few minutes just running from a power supply to seat all the bearings and run in the chain. A portion of the back wall is now covered in a very weird vertical black splatter mark, like a highly precise mechanical crime scene. The same process was repeated for the other side.

Lift chain in place! Now I could manually wang (that’s a strict technical term) the fork up and down and backdrive the motor.

One issue is that switching to a 12 tooth from a 13 tooth sprocket meant my original tensioner design doesn’t tension very much any more. I’m almost at the limit of travel and the chain will most likely slack beyond that limit. The narrow confines of these 3 rolling elements should not cause deraining problems, though. Worst case, I’ll put a spacing ring around the outside of the tensioner so it can push further.

Clamp actuator now installed, and run back and forth a few times with a dose of lithium grease. This motor will definitely be unhappy on even 18 volts, but I’m hoping the current mode of the RageBridge can delay the onset of magic smoke arbitrary far into the future.

After all this was done, I turned the bot over to install the bottom plate.

I decided to get a start on the very last item on the list of manufacture for the mechanical side: The springy legs. I segmented the 3/32″ thick spring steel bar into two 8″ lengths with an abrasive cutoff wheel and selective belt sanding. These will have two holes each put into them with a solid carbide drill bit, then have the accessories attached.

Here, have some robot googly-eyes.

These are actually the front rollers for the legs above. The axles these things ride on are 1/4″ diameter hardened steel shoulder screws, counterbored all the way into the Delrin ball, and extending halfway through the aluminum. This is to make sure that bending impacts are borne as much as possible by the aluminum and not the weaker threaded area of the screw.

This is the mostly mechanically done pretend-o-bot , with the only thing missing at this point being the legs. I cut out a “window” using 1/16″ LDPE sheet to cover the 12:00 and give it some contrast. I hope to have this whole thing back-lit by a big EL panel.

That’s it for now. I’m going to now compile the previous day-ish, and whatever happens today and tomorrow, hopefully into one more post to complete the construction of the bot. That, and reveal the upgrades to 30lb-Überclocker for this year!

Loose Ends Roundup for the Week of the 14th: Adafruit Trip Summary, DERPDrive Painting, Melonscooter’s Battery, and What does a Colsonbot Do?

Here’s another one of those posts where I report up on like 17 things at once! Running (this time wholly my own – no more protection afforded by the likes of 2.007!) the summer go-kart class for the MIT-SUTD collaboration has been one hell of a time sink, so I can only get small incremental things done at any one time.

We begin first by recapping what all went down to get me on the Adafruit Ask an Engineer show this past weekend. The trip to NYC all started as a group desire to just hang out in the city for a few days; so I contacted Makerbot and Adafruit Heavy Industries Co. Ltd. to see if I can swing in anywhere and check them out. Sadly, Makerbot is too pro these days to afford a random visit to their production facility, but Adafruit gladly obliged with an invitation to their web show.

This trip was actually slated to be the very first major long distance haul for Mikuvan. None of us really expected to end up in the city – more like broken down in Rhode Island somewhere. I made sure to pack all the tools needed to service anything short of catastrophic driveline failure, and picked up a new compact spare tire (the stock full-size spare having rusted out seemingly years before, which I took in to get scrapped) beforehand from Nissenbaum’s up the street here.

I’m proud to say that it went down completely without incident. Now I have even less of a reason to dismantle the powertrain, right?

I even looped a new A/C compressor drive belt beforehand (came without one) to test the state of the air conditioning coolant circuit – and to my utter surprise, it blew totally cold. So there we go – all the amenities of a modern car with 9000% more “What the hell is that thing?”. By the way, the A/C still runs R12.

Above is a picture of the van right after arrival in Flushing, Queens.  The only downside, of course, is that it has juuuuust enough horsepower to climb the Whitestone Bridge at about 50mph constant velocity with the gas pedal floored. Horsepower is not something hastily-modified JDM cargo vans are known for, but the electric version ought to fix that. I’m aware the speed limit on the Whitestone seems to be 30mph, but the crowd of delivery trucks and NY-plated private cars huddled around me seemed to beg to differ. I’m sorry, everyone, for having no power whatsoever.

Anyways, Nancy sums up our discoveries about Adafruit well. I no longer think they are made of magic and open-source genome unicorns, but infinity work and dedication.

On this trip, I confirmed the engine oil consumption as about 1 quart per 700-800 miles highway driving, and more like 500ish-miles local (with more cold-starts and short driving trips).  This is a staggeringly high amount, but I don’t think most of it is burning up. During my pre-trip inspection, where I recorded all fluid levels and made sure things weren’t jiggly and double checked my brake rotor-pad-shoe-drum-line-fluid conditions (since it should at least be able to stop, nevermind go) I discovered some fresh oil slicks near the bottom of the timing belt cover and that area of the engine block. This tells me that I probably have a leaking crankshaft front oil seal, and could explain the terrible condition of the timing belt discovered prior to Operation: BAD TIMING. It also tells me the current timing belt might not live that long anyway. The exhaust does emit a brief burst of smoke when cold-starting after a few hours of sitting, so it could indicate a number of other things worn, like the valve guide seals which were suggested by more automotively inclined buddies. I’m willing to write it off to 20+ year old poorly maintained engine. The oil itself does not show excessive signs of burning – the shade isn’t particularly dark, nor does it smell like burned fuel significantly, so I’ll say that most of it is just physically leaking out.
The fact that I hauled ass a total of 450 miles without any hiccups is amazing in and of itself, I think…

derpdrive

Hey, if I’m not going full-on electric right away, let’s at least check in on the thru-the-road hybrid shop-pusher module. DERPDrive hasn’t moved an inch in the past few weeks save for painting (in the same round as Melonscooter2), and that process looks kind of the same:

I picked up a handheld sandblaster from Harbor Freight (this one) to pluck all the rust and scale off the welded steel tubing quickly. Along with a jug of 80 grit aluminum oxide, it took maybe an hour or so to reduce the major frame parts to fresh steel. Here’s a picture of the blasting in progress. By the end, I’d created a small ejecta ring of sand, and I was basically covered in sand in every place imaginable. To supply the blaster, I borrowed a 25 gallon compressor from the IDC shop.

I hung up the parts using picture hanging wire and gave them three coats of the same etching primer used on Melonscooter space a half hour apart. With some of the lessons learned from Melonscooter’s frame, and a bit more advice from more legitimate painters, these parts came out far more even in the end than the scooter frame.

Next up were three coats of black (the same black, again, as used on Melonscooter since I bought like 5 cans of the stuff). Notice how I started during the daytime and it’s now the dead of night. There’s still some “orange peel” areas, but overall, everything dried totally smooth. I ran out of clearcoat, so DERPDrive won’t get the same crisp and shiny finish (But you’re never supposed to see it anyway…)

The finished parts after sitting in cooler, drier air for a day or two.

After the paint fully cured, I began adhering rubber strips to the front and rear of the structure, the parts which will be jacking on the van frame. These are some moderately hard (70A) and thin (1/16″) BUNA rubber strips I bought, being attached with contact cement. A thin layer of compliant material will aid in the attachment in a way two metal on metal contacts cannot – especially given that I won’t be able to torque down the jackscrews fully given that the van frame is still some pretty wimpy stamped steel rails. Again, if this doesn’t work out (like I start popping spot welds), I’m just drilling through everything and attaching them with rivet nuts.The C-clamps are to keep the adhesive fully engaged with the welded steel parts.I hope to assemble DERPDrive soon – I got into another one of those cycles of opening up multiple project threads, unfortunately…

melonscooter

The only work I’ve been able to get in on Melonscooter2 recently has been constructing and balance-changing the battery pack. I also prepared the motor controller, a KBS48121, and most other chunks of wiring for immediate installation. What I have been missing is the timing belt and pulleys – I ordered them last week, but of course waiting for shipping is the killer here. After I receive these parts, everything ought to fall into place quickly.

This is the battery pack in the middle of assembly. I waterjet-cut some 1/32″ copper bus bars for the task. One of them, to the left, has a chunk cut out of it to act as a last-ditch +250 Fuse of Oh Shit Amps. Unfortunately, I had used the wrong design equation values to make the cross section – I think this is actually good for something like 800 amps. Oh well…

Check the fully assembled pack. I added two 6S independent balance leads just to check cell voltages with for now – I hope this pack will be maintained infrequently enough that just cracking open the battery box and alligator clipping to it every few months is enough. Worst case, now I have one of these guys that I’ll make a balance lead jack for. These cells were in wildly varying charge conditions, so I had to spend a day or two just pushing buttons on balancing chargers, but now they’re all within 20-30 millivolts of each other.

colsonbot

Colsonbot… Colsonbot..

Does whatever a colsonbot does

Can he spin? Can he win?

No he can’t! He’s a wheel.

The Battlebots crew up here has reached critical mass. Full disclosure: The real reason for testing Mikuvan to New York City and back was so I can take it to Pennsylvania and back this weekend! The event in question is the PA Bot Blast, and the MIT crew will comprise myself, Dane, Jamison (whom I welcome to the MITrap), and freshly dragged into the craze, Ben.

If I thought trying to wing it up a bridge with only 4 people was bad, then climbing the Allegheny Mountains with four people and robots is going to be really adventurous!

Colsonbot has been in planning since a joyous all-hands dinner at Motorama 2013. Basically, the idea is to build an entire fleet of 3-pound “beetleweight” class robots and sprinkle them about the arena  as a “multibot”, or multi-part entry, to cause trouble and mayhem. Oh, and they’d all be shaped like wheels.  They would be otherwise functional “shell spinner” type bots, but the shell itself would be made of a popular robot drive wheel, the Colson Performa.  I was basically tasked with whipping up a “mass produceable” prototype which we can make a box full and show up to any event with.

I’m proud to say that’s now well under way. To extend this post even further, here’s the work that I’ve done on the Colsonbot front in the past few months. Bear in mind that this sucker has to be ready to run in like 4 days. Luckily, all the parts are on-hand and ready, so I’m only doing some mechanical assembly work.

The way I planned Colsonbot is as a design which could be a successful shell spinner on its own, if only I didn’t put such a silly bouncy rubber shell over it. The drive should be 4WD for stability and traction, and the weapon drive should be as reliable as possible, though not necessarily the most powerful. Under all reasonable circumstances, it should keep rolling! Basically its strategy is to get smacked repeatedly and just roll away.

This is the basis of Colsonbot, a 6×2″ Colson Performa wheel. Typically you’d find these on 30 and 60lb (if not larger) bots. They were a staple of the early 2000s 60lb and 120lb pusher wedge – they paired well with the popular EV Warrior motor and some power wheelchair motors, so they were used widely by new builders. Now that the new builder typically starts in a smaller (e.g. 1 through 30lbs) class, they are less commonly seen than their smaller brethren in the 2 to 4 inch range.

One of the first things I did was to core out the Colson to as far as I thought was reasonable. This process should be repeatable for everyone in on this build, so I didn’t try making any fancy contours. The main body of the bot was consequently limited to about 4″ diameter x 1″ height, with an extra nub on top where the hub of the wheel is normally molded.

Check out those molding voids – someone just did not care at all. Typically, injection molded parts are rejected if they contain voids inside – a result of gas bubbles evolving in the material from impurities or just shitty sealing. However, an industrial caster is hardly a precision application, so I guess this is fine.

The nub in question. I found that the bore of the wheel was basically ready for two FR10 bearing (flanged R10 bearing with 5/8″ bore and 1 3/8″ OD) back to back, so the shaft support was potentially great. I hollowed out the bore as far as I was comfortable with given the Colson’s pseudo-spoked core.

Cored vs. stock, with FR10 bearing. If you actually want to buy these, be aware they are rarely sold as “FR10″ (in the vein of FR8 1/2” bore bearings, which are very common). Try searching G10 or FR2214 bearing instead. By the way, these are exact swap-ins for the horseshit bearings in common Harbor Freight wheels, like these or these (my favorite!)

This is where the fun part starts. Time to try stuffing an entire robot drivetrain into the hollow cavity of the Colson! The only motors short enough for the job were the Sanyo-type “micro” gearmotors sold by a number of places, including Pololu. Literally no other common robot motor (i.e. which we could all buy a bundle of) could fit, even in an “offset” 2WD application, while leaving enough space for the weapon motor and batteries, at least to my sophisticated (…apparently..) specification. I have my own doubts about how robust these very tiny motors will be given the high-impact application they will be in, but we shall see. I purchased a handful of 30:1 units for testing.

After some component shuffling, this is what I came up with. It’s actually shaping up to be a great bot. The four motors are placed in a nearly square wheelbase for best handling, and the weapon motor is off to one side. I decided on a spring loaded slide assembly to keep constant pressure on the shell, which has not been modeled yet.

The hardest part about this thing is the battery. I wanted to fit at least a 1Ah, 3S lithium battery into it, but sadly there were just no options available which could fit in the space required. I had to settle for a 800mah pack from Hobbyking, and even that (as you’ll see in a bit) was pushing it.

Wow, now we’re getting somewhere. I’ve designed this frame to be very quickly blasted off on a 3D printer. As a result, it’s actually the most product-like thing I will have built, yet. The body is all plastic with lids and snaps covering the important bits.

Now with more colson and other parts. The left part of the frame is where the motor will mount – it will be on a little dovetail slide assembly.

This is the mechanism modeled in more detail. I typically just model big blocks and geometric representations of parts until I get to them in earnest. The motor will have a “tire” made of rubber O-rings mounted around the outside. The motor in question is a Hacker A20-50S, first generation (i.e. without the obnoxious tailcone) that I have a few of thanks to my weird airplane friend Ryan. It was the only motor I could get in short order that was short enough yet had enough power. In the”mass production” Colsonbot, this will be replaced with an equivalent Hobbyking shady outrunner.

After the big mechanisms were settled, I began hollowing out cavities for other components and making wire guides.

Here’s a picture of most of the guts installed. The master parts list rundown is:

  • Leftover Turnigy Plush 18 for the weapon controller
  • Hacker A20-50S 1Gen for the weapon drive
  • Vextrollers for main drive
  • Hobbyking T6A receiver guts for the receiver
  • Z800 3S 20C pack for the battery

The center axle is a 5/8″ fine thread bolt with the head machined down for fitness and hollowed out for weight. I don’t think there will be any problems with robustness for the joint between bolt and plastic frame.

I’ve moved onto designing covers and plates here. The motors mount only using the frame members to clamp them in place. They’re square and of a known length gearbox-wise, so this was actually quite easy. It is the same system in use on Pop Quiz 2 to clamp its own 4 Sanyo-style micro motors.

With the battery cover done, it was fine to export everything as STLs and 3D-print all the parts in ABS plastic.

I popped these into a Dimension 1200SST and ran out the last bits of a cartridge with it. I would have tried this on our shop Replicator 1, but just had this sense of hopelessness from the amount of weirdly sticking-out parts.

Test fitting parts now. The motors snap right in – I could almost just run these as-is without the bottom cover!

One issue I found was with the 3/4″ Dubro airplane wheels I bought. I’d never drilled them out before – Pop Quiz 1 used the same wheels back in 2005, but with their stock 2mm bores. It turns out their hubs are no more than about 3.5mm diameter in the center, so when I drilled them to 3mm to fit the Sanyo-style micro motors, there was nothing left to drill and tap into.

Well damn. I quickly whipped up a set of 3/4″ o-ring wheels to be 3DP’d to get around this issue.

Remember the battery? Hobbyking’s dimensions should be considered to be +1mm in all directions in the worst case. I designed this battery compartment using their given dimensions, but when I actually got the battery, it didn’t fit!

Just barely, however. The heavy plastic wrapping they use to shield the pack against punctures sort of got in the way. So what do you do in this case? Cut the damn thing up and just use the 3 cells totally naked. Hey, they’ll have some thicker plastic armor once in the bot anyway. I intend to do this to the 3 packs I got for this thing as spares.

Colsonbot should be all together in the next 2 or 3 days, so definitely stay tuned for this one!