Beyond Unboxing: Inside a Very Chinesium Mini MIG Welder

Welcome to another episode of Beyond Unboxing, where Charles buys something almost solely for satisfying his morbid curiosity. Generally, it’s something made of pure Chinesium (except last time) that I’m trying to press into service for something completely unintended, and I’m more interested in a part inside rather than the thing itself.

This time, it’s a little different. What Big Chuck’s Auto Body Center has been missing for the work I want to do in it has been a welder so I can start doing some sheet metal repair on the van fleet in earnest. I began seriously shopping around a few weeks ago for a MIG welder, which would pretty much handle everything I would typically weld. It would have to be at least somewhat shitty, since we paid top investors’ dollar for the company welders, but just not shitty enough such that it makes me want to “borrow” them periodically.

At first I was just considering a used Miller or Lincoln unit with dual voltage input since Big Chuck’s Auto doesn’t have any 240V or 3 phase – I only have 120. Hella butts 120 (several independent 50 amp circuits fed by what looks like a 200 amp breaker) but still only 120, and most welders will power limit automatically. Buying a giant step-up transformer was, of course, one workaround which I didn’t want to consider, and buying a dual-voltage one would also be expandable for any future shops I spider-hole in. Recent vintage ones will usually go for somewhere in the upper hundreds to low thousands, and usually quickly since they’re desirable. But wait….

Hold up, trap. This is me we are talking about here. I’m the king of spending more money and putting more effort into finding a suboptimal solution than just spending money on something that works. Just ask my van fleet and all my robots! Anyways, just buying a welder which actually works has no hack value. I came to this startling realization and decided I needed to do me: Go explore the horrible Chinesium product market and see what the bazaar of the world has to offer me for very low dollar. After all, I could just borrow the company MIG welder for a day and….

So! I spent an evening reading up and studying about Shitty Chinese MIG welders. Heaven forbid I put this much effort into actually studying something that’s useful for society, right? Here’s what I learned!

The Chinesium welder market is generally split up into 3 Gaussian bands for pricing. On the very bottom shelf, you have stuff like this…


These things are usually not even MIG, just flux-core only with no gas handling ability. They also don’t have discretely adjustable output power like a knob or setting keys, but just have 2 big switches which rearrange taps on an internal transformer to get you 4 vaguely different voltage and current settings. I’ve used the Harbor Freight Special of this kind before, and they do work with some getting used to, but this wasn’t even worth looking at for me honestly. No, not even the cheesy handheld welding screen was worth it.

Up around the $250 range, you start to get actual adjustability and gas handling, though some are still flux-core only……… but you have to read the description to find out! The torches are still usually hardwired in (this is where I learned the difference between the various welder output connector systems like Tweco style or “Euro” style torch fittings) – guess there’s not money in that product dev budget for a nice chunk of leaded brass.

For this price and less you begin to see the “inverter” based ones – cheaper ones if you just search Inverter Welder will be stick only or a combo stick/TIG machine. These are actually pretty cool in my mind, just I don’t have a use case for them. MIG needs a wire feed system so it’s usually pricier.

And getting close to the “Please buy a used brand-name machine” price range is when you’ll see the whole feature set of inverter machines with adjustable voltage/current/wire speed, gas handling, removable torch, and the like.

I decided to play a game and find the least expensive machine which had:

  • Knob- or button-dialed variable voltage and wire speed
  • Removable torch
  • Inverter-based
  • Dual voltage advertised, or at least I suspected could be dual voltage capable.

This last part is important, because I had a sneaking suspicion that these Chinese inverter welders were stupid enough that they would run on 120V even if advertised for 240V.  A lot of inverter machines were being advertised as 220/240V only – which was weird, since the way I know these things should be working, it doesn’t matter. Perhaps the Value Engineering had really made their power supplies dedicated to one voltage or another, or perhaps they are just seeking different markets. Either way, we fast forward ….

…A few days! What? It turns out that this thing is actually Fulfilled By Amazon. Thanks, Jeff Bezos! I was expecting to continue haunting the market for another 2 weeks or so while gently regretting not just getting a usable machine off Facenet Marketplace.

So this here is a “REBOOT” branded … box of something. There’s a crude lineart of a dude welding something – or perhaps shooting his death ray at something. It says Good Quality on it. You know, much like my LED headlights say ‘DOT” on them, writing Good Quality on the box doesn’t make it necessarily true. But, optimism shall prevail!

As of this writing, you can find this thing on eBay for $237.50 with FREE! shipping, which for a box this size is a nontrivial value.

So I’m gonna scoop my own Beyond Unboxing real quick. I actually got this thing so fast that I didn’t prepare anything else, and I was already at Harbor Freight for a company run and decided to unpack it to see if I could get any accessories that fit it right away.

This thing is… deceptively small. The company welders are all pretty beefy, and before that, the machines I’d have access to were not inverter units – they were older transformer ones. It’s in fact so small it can only take the 1kg wire spool size. It’s a very easy one hand lift. Definitely color me surprised and somewhat dubious it contained anything of value.

Alright, and we are on the operating table. This is the contents of the box. The unit itself, a ground clamp, a stick electrode holder, a length of PVC gas hose, and a 1kg spool of mystery meat flux-core wire to get you started. They really know their audience! Free consumable since you probably designed the thing to last as long as the spool does for the guy who buys this and welds 1 thing.

Let’s begin shucking this clam. First and foremost, let’s get this out of the way: Every cable on this – ground wire, torch output, and power cord – is copper coated aluminum wire.

I’m sure it was invented with the best of intentions. It’s light weight, it’s softer and easier to work, and it makes better use of copper conductors at high frequencies because of the skin effect.

Oh, and it’s cheaper. Did I mention it’s cheaper?

For the same gauge, make sure you realize you’re only getting 2/3rds the conductivity. When buying any questionable pedigree wire product, always take a cross section sample and ensure it isn’t bright silver colored, and strip a section and scrape the top few strands with a knife facing backwards. If it also feels too light to be made of metal, it’s probably CCA.

Basically every car audio product you buy on Amazon will use CCA wire to mimic the same gauge copper. This is just fine and dandy if you buy things by nameplate power and never, ever actually need all of the rated amps of a copper wire of the same size.  Listen to the man whose company product dynamometer results were thrown off 30% because we just threw the 4AWG audio cable we wired robots up with at the damn thing and actually tried to push 250 amps through it.

Anyways, I’m sure it works fine for the limited duty cycles and shorter runs (because these included cables and torch parts are NOT the whole 10-12 feet you’d get otherwise!). This is the rant of someone that is very butthurt and traumatized by one specific issue. I literally just finished yelling at a vendor recently for using car audio cable on some custom battery packs I commissioned because they came through silver – fortunately, after a lot more examination, they were just tinned well. I like my wire brown.


The drive mechanism is pretty generic, with fiber-filled plastic everywhere. I was hoping for a stamped metal or at least cast unobtanium drive system, but even low end brand name units have plastic wire feeds now.

What peeved me more was that this torch was hard-wired after all. The huge strain relief grommet made it LOOK like it had a Euro style connector on the output; but alas, it was just hiding the truth.

We’re off to such a good start with this one! Oh boy, this means it will be amazing.

I do have some good news – the Harbor Freight Vulcan series of MIG welder parts, such as contact tips and gas nozzles, do fit this torch. I figured the Law of Chinese Product Packaging Inertia would make this the case.

On the left is what it came with, and on the right are the Vulcan parts.

The gas hose is an 8mm push fitting; no 1/4 NPT here!

I took apart the drive mechanism to see if it would be plausible to convert the thing to a connector (so I can eventually attach an aluminum-dispensing spool gun on it) – not really, all of the cables and gas hose actually just disappear into the bowels. The cable sleeve is pretty much just a bike brake cable sheath.

My goal with taking the lid off was to investigate if there was any plausible reason why it couldn’t run on 120V. It woke up when I plugged it in, but I didn’t install any wire or try to weld anything. Besides, I was curious of what kind of Value Engineering had gone into the other parts. The case removal is easy – just undo all of the sheet metal screws.

There’s two more hidden under the handle too.

And here’s one side of the goods! The drive unit is a little speed-400 type motor, but higher voltage, feeding into a spur gearbox. This thing looked to be an OEM part of some sort you could buy – it’s genericized on eBay and other places as “24V wire feed motor”. The controls are up top, and the big money power is on the bottom.

All of the boards had this name written on them. Arcsonic seems to be the actual brand name/OEM of this unit, along with many others that look like it. I’m glad it was this straightforward!

This smaller board is the rectifier assembly. Just a bridge and some capacitors here, no fancy power factor correction.

The back side of the board – the relay is the gate for AC power to enter the rectifier and DC bus.

The part of this thing that can be called the “Inverter”, I suppose. Most of the time when welders say “inverter based” they mean this kind of buck converter architecture .  In this thing, the rectified AC mains power enters on the left side. It then gets chopped by the IGBTs under the left hand heat sinks to yield a lower voltage. It’s the same topology as almost every motor controller. The large donut on the right is an output inductor to smooth the current ripple.

Actually, looking at the backside of this thing, it’s more properly called a half-bridge forward converter. There is an isolation transformer in the middle between the input and output to step the voltage down in lieu of modulating the duty cycle across a wide range. The exact mechanics of what a half-bridge converter is are beyond scope here, just accept that it made me go “oh, neat” and can be highly efficient.


The control board is almost all discrete and thru-hole components. This design must date back quite aways – not being a welding historian, I can only guess it’s lifted from a 90s to 2000s era inverter welder of American or European bloodline. I wasn’t interested in diving into what it did here – pretty much just scanning what the logic power supply looked like.

At this point I was convinced that it might be stupid enough that I can just run it on 120V without issues, perhaps just taking a hit on the maximum output voltage. That’s mostly why I was staring at the power stage, since some architectures will prevent the duty cycle from changing enough to accommodate a 50% reduction in bus voltage; if not, it could be smart enough to error out of it detects a duty cycle increase above a certain limit. The design of the half-bridge forward converter is such that it’s pretty input voltage agnostic as long as your driver circuitry keeps working.

I began putting the thing back together and briefly wondered why a MIG welder would have both a volts and an amps knob – before remembering this thing can also do stick welding. In MIG mode, as I tested, the Amps knob just controls wire feed speed.

Continuing the reassembly! The torch is really, really hardwired in – if I wanted to smack a Euro fitting on it or something, I’d have to deconstruct that whole signal wiring harness to disconnect it from the control board. Not worth it, really. If you wanted expandability into the Chinesium aftermarket, this is probably not your unit – I also didn’t see any easy way to cut a spool gun into the control system. I suggest, you know, buying a real welder.

I decided to go ahead and arm up the mystery meat flux-core spool  and actually get some welding done.

So, Big Chuck’s Auto Body came with something I call “Frank, the I-beam”. It’s a 16″ tall structural beam that used to be 24 feet long. Just an entire I-beam, hanging out and squatting on the floor eating all your leftovers and smoking all your weed, the underachiever. Early on, I hoisted it onto a set of 4 car dollies so I could at least shove it into a corner. I later asked some friends to come over and have at it with torches and cutoff saws – they took most of it to make things like anvils and…. gantry cranes? I didn’t really ask too much.

Anyways, I kept 6 feet of it for… whenever I need an I-beam, or something. Right now, it’ll be welding practice. I was going to crank this thing up all the way and just deposit steel.

Well, I definitely own a steel ball spraying machine.

My history with flux-core welding has been very spotty. I’ve usually just been handed a machine in some field/competition/informal gathering and told to fix this or that, and it was filled up with flux-core wire because no gas or infrastructure to support it and no willpower to change that.

It’s always just made a mess and been horrible, and I always wrote flux-core off as a trashy third-tier welding process.

It turns out, you need to use Electrode Negative mode with it, or “straight polarity” welding. First, that’s a welding industry legacy term, because to everyone else, “straight” or “positive” polarity means something with positive voltage is touching it. Who the fuck knew!?

I sure didn’t – since I avoided the process like I avoid college town liberalism, i.e. once and never again, I never did research into it enough to find out that LITERALLY EVERYONE WHO HAS HAD ME TRY TO USE A FLUX CORE WELDER HAS BEEN WRONG.  You don’t just insert flux-core wire into a MIG welder and start firing away – well, you can, but it would make more little steel balls than weld.

This thing lets you switch the polarity of the torch and the return clamp manually. A more sophisticated machine might have a big ol’ switch on it to do so. Either way, by searching “why is my flux core welder shitty and raining steel balls everywhere” I learned a thing.

Yep, so that vertical line on the right is the first decent looking bead I’ve ever made using flux-core wire.

In my entire life.

You know, past the toxic cloud of flux vaping upwards at me, and the need to constantly wire brush and clean up your weld, it’s actually not bad! I see that, much like people fool themselves into liking India Pale Ales, people also fool themselves into liking flux-core welding. I made several more fine-ass looking beads after this, too.

So, the verdict? I had the machine cranked out to the max on both voltage and wire feed during these tests, and it handled that admirably. It’s obviously not pushing enough power on 120V input to hurt itself, nor to trip a convention 15A breaker. I deposited steel (welding implies it was usefully joining metals) for about 30 seconds straight crossing the entire I-beam width – that was a nasty looking slug by the end – and the machine didn’t throw any angry lights or stop running. In the near future I do want to drag it over to the new shop and try putting an Overhaul wedge together using 240V mains, and see if it wants to go back on vacation.

In the end, this “220V” Chinesium inverter MIG is proving itself quite handy on 120V. Luckily, it won’t be principally welding I-beams together in Big Chuck’s Auto Body. Instead…



What’s Inside that Surplus Center Bomb Hoist Motor? A Quick Break from BattleBots with Beyond Unboxing

Hey everybody! I’m back with a new episode of Beyond Unboxing focusing on a very unique piece of hardware that I just got way too curious about. In searching for a small American separately-excited (SepEx) motor, I remembered an item I saw on Surplus Center quite a while ago that they seemed to have a lot of trouble selling.

Huh. With no datasheet/manual/pinout available, the odd form factor, and shipping being extremely expensive due to it being heavy, I can see why I think they’ve only managed to sell 5? within the past year. To what other crazy dumbasses, I wondered. This motor definitely had at least 1 of the characteristics I was searching for – it was very American indeed, what with being American made for the American military to drop American bombs – and this will come into play later.

As for being sep-ex, I was at least very convinced it was a field-wound type motor, not permanent magnet. It seemed juuuuuust old enough that permanent magnets wouldn’t have been cheap in that size and not offered as much performance as a big series field winding in the required application – winching something. The multi-pin wiring harness coming out of the motor also indicated a wound-field type to me, since I couldn’t imagine this motor having an encoder or temperature sensor. Perhaps 2 of the pins were a load-holding brake, since hoist and all. But that still left at least three pins!

Not even mentioning the odd lobular shape of that gearbox of course – that got me even curious-er about what went on inside. Just looking at the thing, I counted at least 3 stages of gearing mentally, and with the weight of the whole assembly, there must be some seriously massive gears inside! So I went ahead and purchased one, just one, for merely 40% of the final checkout price as shipping this object was $75 alone. This better be really good…

Aand I’m glad to say that it WAS VERY GOOD INDEED, a journey into a vestige of the big & brute force style of American manufacturing where the product is an engineering textbook in physical form, and containing quite a few pleasant surprises. MURICA ONWARDS! Also, I managed to trace out the wiring for the motor, so there’s that.

First of all – They’re serious. It’s heavy. There was an attempt at shipping it correctly, for sure – the thing was firmly pallet-wrapped to a piece of thick particleboard on the inside of the box which had kinda survived transit. There were several holes punctured in the box also.

I wasn’t worried for it at all, obviously. I was worried more for what it took out on the way down the conveyor, like borderline expecting to pick the debris of someone elses’ Amazon sex toy order out of the motor fan grille level of worried. Luckily, my fears ended up unfounded.

It took… some effort to get this damn thing on the table. That’s an 18″ (0.5m) ruler next to it… the whole assembly is over 2ft long end to end. That’s a lot of little safety wire too, all neatly wound and tied off.

The motor has a nameplate on it showing it was made by the Steel Products Engineerng Division of the Kelsey-Hayes Wheel Company. Looking up the latter, I saw that they did indeed make many wheels, among other things – certainly during any of the 20th century war efforts they would have made military gear.

I back-searched the order number found on the motor and gearbox plate AF33(602)7109 and found some listings for a canceled defense specification from 1982 – so this would probably imply the units were manufactured well before then. Searching out that Mil-Spec MIL-H-25205A(1) showed that it was published as early as 1960. And searching the NSN (NATO Stock Number) 1730-203-8712, in the form of 1730-00-203-8712 yielded a 1963 date. So it could mean these things were built around the Vietnam War era.

Most of the info I could find was buried behind spammy paywall websites that aggregated mil-spec info. I wasn’t in the mood to research out the history of this damned thing, just to take it apart and see if I could use it for unintended purposes. I’m guessing after these were all decommissioned, they got stuffed in a warehouse in some recently-closed Air Force base before making it onto the surplus markets. Anybody who has more information on these, or if you’ve used one in real life, is welcome to tell me more about them! Would you recommend them to a friend?

The nameplate on the gearbox housing yields about the same information.  Based on my understanding from some light research, these were hitched to planes to lift bombs into position, but the planes did not carry them along for the ride. The numerous quick-release features and handles on it do imply this object was intended to be quickly moved in and out of position. I’m guessing the whole operation looked kind of like this, but I must balk at the unwieldiness of this device for such a purpose. Maybe 75 pounds is only heavy to me.

It is quite adjustable, however. The unpainted aluminum casting at the front pivots if you pull a pin, and can lock into one of six positions. The base has a pullable locking pin also, as well as four riveted shouldered sliders (two rivets visible above) so it was definitely designed to slide into something and lock in, then be removed quick.y


It also comes with accompanying toys – the tackle block and its accompanying 8-tooth ball-bearing-mounted #80 hard chrome plated sprocket, and its mating friend, an extendable wrench which fits into a cavity in the sprocket for when you need to give your bombs some manual assist. The fact that a #80 chain is the preferred hoisting medium still boggles me.

Let’s start taking this thing apart! First, there’s a spanner nut that retains the quick-release assembly which needs to be unscrewed. Absent the correct tool, I just used a needle-nose plier. The quick-release assembly has a 7-tooth #80 sprocket inside which has a splined bore for being driven by the gearbox.

There’s the drive sprocket. The chain enters through the vaguely H-shaped guide slot in the bottom of the quick release, and is fed into the sprocket and kept from losing contact by guides (and probably by virtue of being huge).

There’s a rotating cover of some sort which is retained by a pin – once the pin is driven out, the cover is removed and the sprocket is no longer being detained and is free to leave, thank you very much. Now you have a 7-tooth #80 sprocket to play with that fits on that specific type of splined shaft, which will be removed in due time!

I continued removing all the ‘jiggly things’ so they wouldn’t get in the way later. It has some other small clips and handles that all are held in by mildly press-fit pins.

Oh, and safety wire. Did I already mention all the safety wire? Everything is safety wire.  In beginning to remove the motor for my appraisal, I had to spend 5 minutes cutting and extracting all of the safety-wired screw heads!  I noticed the screws themselves were barely tight for the most part, with their only saving grace being safety wire. I assume this is not actually standard practice in the aviation industry…

All of the bolts are US threaded – they are generally 5/16″ thread, using a 1/2″ hex drive. Here we go! About to crack the motor off…

And let there be PEANUT BUTTER. There is a heavy grease packing inside which can only be described as peanut butter – it’s everywhere, and it smells straight up pre-EPA carcinogenic. You know that “Old Electrical Equipment Funk”? It’s that, but on anything it touches. I ended up digging a lot of it out with shop towels later and throwing it ot…. but part of me regrets it now and wants to keep the grease of the next one(s) I buy (if I do) in its own little jar for future generations to appreciate.

But here we see where I have already made wrong assumptions about this thing. I assumed it was a direct drive off the motor into the worm gearbox, or at most 1 stage of gearing. However, looking inside at this point, I see at least three stages of spur gears.  It’s interesting to note that I haven’t found a single molded plastic part yet – everything is rubber, phenolic, or metal.

Here is the motor by itself. I’m going to dig into this thing a little in order to find the pinout of the 5-pin circular military style connector, in the process discovering the type of winding it has – whether it’s series or shunt wound, or a seperately excited motor like I want.

First, four tiny safety wired!!!! screws need to be removed for the rear cover to pop off, which only houses a fan.

You may be wondering what that little “Westin Elevator Shaft” contraption is on the side. It’s a captive hex shaft which has a socket on the other end that mates to a hex stub in the spur stage of the gearbox. It seems like its purpose is to allow hand-cranking of the gearbox through the reduction the motor sees – presumably while your buddy is standing on the end of the manual tackle block tool also, so you can hoist bombs even when the power is out.

Another set of SAFETY WIRED!!! tiny screws and a shroud that covers the brushes is released. This doesn’t affect the brush holder – it only allows you to see into the ventilation holes. I’m guessing this motor might come in several flavors including open (like this) or enclosed/fan cooled (like it was before I cracked it open) depending on options.

The fan is retained by a single nut, and removing it exposes the part of the motor which I suspect was designed last.  So here’s what’s going on:

  • The outer ring of 4 nuts hold the whole endcap onto the tie rods that run the length of the motor. These are structural to the motor. They’re #10 thread, so a 3/8″ hex drive, except one by the Westin Elevator Shaft which is a “thin pattern” hex nut using a 9/32″ hex drive, probably since there isn’t enough space for a bigger nut.
  • The inner ring of 4 nuts retain the brush holder onto the endcap, and are #8-32 nuts, so a 11/32″ hex drive.

So there you go: 3 tools to do this operation, all within a few 32nds of each other. I was confused as hell about what was just painted over or not and if i was really seeing things or there were #8s and #10s in close proximity. ‘Murica


While I was undoing the endcap, I also unfastened the giant die-cast junction box and unscrewed the circular connector to try and find out if there were obvious armature/field wires. They all disappear into the motorial abyss, so I’d need to keep exploring.

Continuing with the theme of “no plastic anywhere”, all of the wire in this thing has braided insulation!

So I’m a wee bit confused on the order of operations needed to assemble this thing. I clearly did it the wrong way, which is to remove all of the endcap nuts at once and yank. The inner ring of nuts retains the brush holder and also locks it in a certain brush timing, which I will not be able to recover exactly.

What I think is the correct way to disassemble the motor appears to be removing the tie rod nuts (outer ring of nuts) and then removing both the armature and the brush/endcap assembly at the same time. That way, the brush holder isn’t disturbed, and since it’s a wound-field motor, you’re also not fighting magnetism to do so. Something to keep in mind for next time! I’ll show how to disengage the armature in a minute.

This brush setup is quite something. The brushes themselves are circular arc shaped and they pivot on little arms, instead of the traditional inline coil spring setup. Wonder why they did it this way? You potentially get more brush life from the small amount of space the other springing methods would take up, I suppose.

To pop the armature out, use a thin 1/16″ pin punch to drive the pin out of the pinion side. The pinion, it turns out, lives on another spline and the pin’s only for axial placement.

Then you yank. That’s a real pretty armature – it’s wound almost like a starter motor (which I suppose it will share a lot of intermittent-duty high-power lineage with).

Of note, it has a large flat steel faceplate. This is related to the next photo:

First of all, field windings and brush terminations! This allowed me to back-trace much of the 5-pin connector. I determined that the motor was indeed a separately-excited (Sepex) motor!

You see the fibery-looking pad at the bottom? That’s a phenolic brake pad. It’s spring loaded upwards naturally, and you pull the little pin on the right to engage/disengage it. It mates with the steel disc that is on the armature. When it’s engaged, the motor shaft is hard but not impossible to turn. It’s likely a load-holding brake for the motor and is there more as an extra precaution – unless that worm gear stage is very high helix angle, I can’t imagine the motor contributing all that much to load-holding versus the worm gear.

Repeat after me: “Reassembly is the opposite of disassembly.” I discovered that my “correct way” of disassembling the motor was in fact not going to be possible – there’s two attachments to the brush holder that are screw-in and must be obviously done so while the brush holder is not mounted to the endcap!

So the way I did this reassembly was armature, then brush holder, then the two screw connections, and then the endcap (then thereafter the fan shroud and so no). As for how the factory made sure the brush timing is correct…. hell if I know. I did my best by visually inspecting it through the vent holes.

You know what? Just don’t take the motor apart and take my word for it.

Since the motor was really my agenda, I decided to do some basic characterization of the motor. For my sepex application, I would like to know the field resistance, armature resistance, and ideally the magnetization curves of the motor – no-load voltage (out) versus field current for several different input speeds.

The problem was I would have needed a controlled way to spin the motor up to around 10,000 RPM, so I didn’t get any of the magnetization curve data for the time being. I found out that on its native stated specifications – 28 volts applied to both field and armature – it wanted to draw 6 amps spinning no-load at 9,200 RPM. For such a big motor, 9,200 is really fast…. but the 8,000 RPM @ 44A specification on Surplus Center made more sense.

I also solved the armature resistance to be 0.04 ohms and the field resistance to be 10.1 ohms. This is one hell of a motor – albeit only for a short period of time, which sounds perfect.

all together now… what the fuck is he building now that needs this specific motor? doesn’t he design motors for fun?

To summarize this section for now – here’s a pic of the circular connector showing the pinouts I discovered.

That ought to fix all the buyer questions on the Surplus Center website, and hopefully make this thing a little more useful if you have a #80 chain hanging around that needs something to climb up it slowly.

But the story doesn’t end there. Oh, it’s just beginning. There was still 30 or so pounds of gear that I haven’t even opened up yet.

I’ve already found that my assumptions about the input stage were wrong. What ELSE don’t I know about this? Let’s remove the 25 miles of safety wire that hold the back gearbox cover plates on.

I actually decided to work forwards from the motor and start on removing the worm gear stage first, since I got very curious about what kind of worm gear it was which they’d still warrant a load-holding system on the motor in the form of the spring-loaded brake. The six inner screws release a cover plate for the bearing of the worm wheel axle. The outer six safety-wired screws hold the entire endcap on; it’s a mild press fit, so be prepared with a sharp paint scraper or knife edge to do the initial release.

The worm gear system is now exposed, but it’s not yet removable since it doesn’t have enough slop in it to wiggle past the wheel past the worm.

The other side of the worm wheel axle is just the large back-side cover. Time to take all those screws out and start paint-scrapering to release the press/grease fit!

First off: Holy crap, that’s a lot of peanut butter. Second: Holy crap, that’s another entire intermediate stage I wasn’t expecting! Third: Holy crap, those gears have stub-form teeth! I’ve only read about that in engineering textbooks of my bunny days – never seen stub gears in real life before.

Once this back cover pulls out, by the way, the worm wheel just falls out the endcap side (bottom in this photo).

The worm wheel is kept in place by the compression provided by the spanner nut, but power is taken through an involute-splined hub. Notice the small gear stage next to it. This is a mere 1.25:1. The gear at the bottom of the worm wheel axle is 12 tooth and mates with a 16/12 tooth cluster gear which does the final mate with the large output gear. I must wonder what type of packaging concern or ratio fine-tuning warranted this intermediate stage when you theoretically could have tuned the worm gear or output gear one way or the other slightly.

The worm stage is a double-enveloping type, also called a globoid worm design, for maximum strength and contact area. This thing has just been an engineering textbook in a peanut-butter filled box so far; it was actually quite pleasant to see again, given my recent forays into electronics and shitty vans.

I sprinkled the final drive out of the casing, only to discover….. more peanut butter. Go figure.

What was also cool to see: Inch-sized big-bore thin section bearings. These days, the dominant bearing is the metric single-row series (6002, 6200, 6801, etc.), but there is not a breath of metric on any of this. The bearings all were crunchy – unsure if it’s due to aged and dried lubrication or just specified to be a lower uniformity/finish grade, but I’m going to yank them all off and keep them.

After I cleaned the peanut butter off for the most part, here’s the final drive. The output shaft isn’t actually retained by anything but the back plate – once it comes off, the shaft will fall out. It also isn’t carried on its own bearing, depending on the distal bearing found in the aluminum mounting assembly with the swivels that I removed first. So the green gearbox wasn’t ever supposed to live on its own either.

There was still a worm gear stuck inside and the 3? stages of initial spur gearing I haven’t discovered yet, so back to the other end we go! The same procedure is used on the motor side: cut off all the safety wire and just start unscrewing. This side has some dowel pin alignment mates which are more press-fit than the rest.

Aaaaaaaand more peanut butter. By this point, I’ve almost half-filled a 44-gallon rolling trash bin with towels full of peanut butter stains.

The setup didn’t make any sense to me, as I was clearly spinning the motor pinion’s mating gear by hand but seeing two different rotation speeds. In fact, the hex shaft which couples through motor into the (missing) manual crank handle is geared up from the handle itself, but at a different ratio to the motor which is geared down in two stages. They put a complete independent gear path in here just so you can spin it by hand – I’d like to think it was informed by how much torque it was comfortable to keep applying versus how quickly your arms get tired from cranking.

But it was probably because steel was basically free back then.

After another container truck left for the JIF factory, we expose the final boss of this gearbox: the screw holding the input gear on.

Actually, no. It was in fact easy to remove that screw, but hard to remove the two gears in front of the worm input gear. They’re just press-fits with bearings ,which I had to “three phase screwdriver” pry the upper right (motor input) gear out, and slide hammer the hex shaft gear out (attempt 1 with a vise grip is shown…. attempt 2 is hooking my slide hammer onto this vise grip) trashing the tiny inch sized angular-contact bearings in the process.


F :(


The input pre-duction has been freed!

….and there are more screws. And more safety wire. 2 health bars? Nope, this thing’s had like 20 extra lives by now.

After that gets undone, the worm gear pops right out! Hurray!

Here’s the final gear count: Seven, each intricately engineered and machined, with polished teeth and edges. Go watch some worm gear machining videos and then talk to me about how sweet this thing is. I’m not sure how I can even use any of these gears outside of the box they came in, because I sure as hell am never going to make the worm gear fit correctly in anything again. The temptation of bringing Cold Arbor back, though, went up several-fold after doing this surgery.

So what’s the ratio from the motor to the big 7-tooth sprocket? The input stages are made of two stages of 54:14 (14 tooth pinion on the motor, a 54/14 cluster gear, and 54 tooth worm shaft input gear). The worm stage is 30:1. Then you have the 1.25″1 intermediate stage (12 teeth on worm shaft onto a 16/12 cluster) and finally the 36-tooth output gear. That’s a total of 1673:1 and some spare change.

I’m inclined to say that this device is really best kept together, maybe with your own assembly in place of the swivel mount, and using the motor as-is also; maybe doing some work to adapt the input shaft to your own motor.

There’s so much excess it’s a joy to behold: In its day, steel was free, labor was cheap, and China wasn’t a real place.

alright, so what the fuck are you building that needs this precise kind of motor, the more American the better?

All will be revealed in due time, but it’s exactly what you’d expect. I’d like to collect some magnetization data on the motor soon, so I’ll report back in with its operating characteristics at several voltages and speeds. I’ll likely end up purchasing another one GREAT, MORE PEANUT BUTTER and making a face-to-face dynamometer to collect said data (maybe not full dyno curves, but at least the bemf-versus-speed info) since the best way to characterize a motor is to drive it with itself, in an electrically masturbatory loop of power.  I’m thinking of how I’d incorporate the rest of the gear stages, but it seems unlikely with the ratios I can arrange them in. All I can really say since I don’t have a definite timeline due to my startup-baby, is that it will bring some interesting new-old tactics into a game with an established meta; it won’t win anything, but will be glorious while doing so!

A Different Kind of Chinese Motor Controller?! Adding Dynamic Braking to your Inexpensive Chinese VFD

Here at Big Chuck’s Robot Warehouse, we love our Chinese motor controllers. I some times think that at this point in life, I’ve become a kind of Chinese motor controller evolutionary biologist…. or at least like the Identifying Wood guy of underpowered gate drive amplifiers, I hope. Taking apart and examining motor controllers, which I’ve written up many times on this site in “Beyond Unboxing”,  is a large part of how I came to understand them, at least to the degree that Man can comprehend the transcendent nature of motor controllers.

Navigating the Pacific Rim of Chinese mass-market industrial products is not for the feint of heart – often times, products are sold over-rated and inaccurately advertised, and much of the knowledge base of using these products exists on hobbyist forums and message boards/email threads. This means anyone else outside of a circle of knowledge who tries to buy something and use it is often frustrated due to the lack of official documentation… and to find any good documentation often requires sifting through a forum thread or (heaven forbid) Github repository. That’s what I try to remedy whenever I cross paths with it, with some detailed writeup and explanation of what’s going on. Because at least that appears on a search engine result in a comprehensible fashion!

Today, we *gets out David Attenborough voice chipset* will be getting a closer look at a different species of Chinese motor controller. Rarely seen in the North American continent compared to its smaller, domesticated brethren, it is the majestic Giant Chinese VFD.

This one’s an adolescent male, with a 9/2016 date code. You can tell from his unadorned, angular ABS plastic case, compared to the more ornate and filleted females. He’s just begun to venture into the wild alone to expand his territory.

He stalks his prey, an aging Bridgeport J-head, from the safety of his preferred observation grounds, a nearby wall:

Okay, that’s enough, David. Also, lyrebirds are cool.

So why do I need a VFD? The shop has easily-obtainable 208V single-phase power which we had installed, as seen by the new junction box behind the mill. 208V is just missing the 3rd phase to become 3-phase, but that doesn’t exist in the vicinity and wasn’t going to be cheap to run. Hell, even if I had 3 phase, I’d still be getting a VFD anyway to have the additional running envelope and ability to change to arbitrary speeds. You mean keeping the Bridgeport in low gear and revving the motor to 13,000 RPM isn’t a good idea?

I did an initial sweep of the space of available Chinese VFDs back in January. Did you expect me to pay actual money for a real, working and supported product? Come on now, you know I’d rather jump into a pool of sharks. Chinese knockoff sharks!

As you can see, they all look kind of alike, and based on my brief research on DIY CNC forums and groups, they’re basically all the same genericized design. This is similar to other Chinese industrial products, including my favorite e-bike and R/C brushless controllers.

I have a rule called the “Law of Chinese Packaging Inertia” – if the Chinese product visually appears the same as a counterpart, it very likely is the same, or has trivial differences for marketing reasons. There’s been no better proof of this law than hoverboards seg-things, but it’s existed substantially in the past in the form of cordless drill motors for robots, the aforementioned e-bike controllers, and the like.

On eBay, there are numerous US-based resellers of the same products:



So I picked one which was severely overrated nominally for the motor it was to be running – a 3 HP (4kW) rated one, thereafter sorting by distance nearest and free shipping. You Only Line-start Once.

I figured I might as well err on the side of caution ratings-wise, since my other Chinese product rule is known as the “Harbor Freight Derating Factor”: derate by half if you intend to use it, and by 2/3rds if you’re standing under it. Vantruck weighs 3 tons. Have you seen how thin the metal is on a 3-ton Harbor Freight jackstand?! Don’t give me none of that shit…

The real reason, though, was because I picked the size originally for eventually powering the lathe, which has a pretty beefy spindle motor. I decided to outfit the mill first because it was a bit safer of a proposition to try something unknown on – there’s less rotating mass to bring to a halt.

Alright, my life is settling down a little after Motorama and the insurance & mechanics nonsense. Let’s wire up the mill!


Actually, speaking of “have you ever”…. have you ever seen inside a 1HP Bridgeport J-head “pancake motor”? I have actually never looked inside one until now, somehow, and it really is an axial-flux motor! For some reason I always mentally wrote it off as a very stubby conventional motor, but this makes so much more sense. Have a look at these photos! I didn’t take apart the motor since I “get it”, but that was a good trivia day.


I had to remove the drum switch (for manually powering in forward or reverse) and then drill an access hole in the 1/4″ thick cast iron junction box for a cable grip. This was when I discovered the previous operators used a 3-conductor service cord on a 3 phase motor with no ground. The ground was an extra piece of hookup wire mashed into the cable grip, electrical taped around the machine, and eventually into the 4-prong twist-lock plug. Well, at least it was grounded.

Wiring was pretty easy after that, and the instruction booklet which came with it was very Technical Chinglish but easily decypherable (and comparable to other more English manuals for VFDs).

Has anyone seen THE USE OF MANUAL???

These things will allow you to change a lot of parameters about the motor, and you can set the V/F line to have 2 slopes for more torque in certain operating regimes, etc. They call this “arbitrary” V/F curves, but no, it’s not really that. It came with a bunch of parameters set assume 50hz mains, which I changed to 60hz. Other parameters control what inputs the drive unit listens to – I hooked up an external potentiometer and told it to use the potentiometer to control the speed, as the unit DESPITE BEING ADVERTISED WITH ONE IN THE PHOTO didn’t come with a knob on the control board! See the very first photo above.

I cut the faceplate open to try and see if there was one hiding in there or something. Nope, missing. This will become a trend.

Most of the parameters I ended up leaving stock until I had a better feel for the system, since I’d not set up a VFD before. These inexpensive units are generally open-loop VFDs – they don’t have a tachometer input, though there seems to be an option in the settings… I’ll have to look a little more in detail.  They just bang out a frequency, and you can set how fast it increases that frequency for acceleration; if you set it too fast, you fall off the optimal slip region for maximum torque and your motor actually takes much longer to spin up (Induction motors require the supplied field frequency to be just a little faster than its rotational speed for torque production).


I call this the DOUBLE DANGLE


Slowing down was the hard part. Nominally, this thing had “braking”, and included terminals for a dynamic braking resistor, subway train style. I added one found in the bowels of MITERS – a 120 ohm, 50 watt unit. A little undersized, but it’s not like I’m stopping this motor every 10 seconds for a tool change.

Despite having the options selected, I couldn’t get it to actually perform any braking. I could either 1. set the ramp-down time to nearly as long as the machine would take to coast down by itself, or 2. just use “coasting stop” mode which was exactly the same damn thing because it just lets go of the output.

Attempting to set the spindown time faster simply resulted in the unit shutting down outputs and displaying an overvoltage error. Yes, it would make sense – when the motor regenerates power into the controller, it needs to go somewhere. In EV controllers, it’s back into the battery. I’ve never heard of a ‘grid tie VFD” for controlling machines before, though conceivable it could track the mains voltage to try and dump current back into the building, but why would you do that…. Or, you burn it off in a braking resistor.

Without any of those sinks of power, the voltage on the DC power rails of the VFD will spike upwards uncontrollably. It looks like this one will shut off at 400V on the DC power bus. I investigated a little more with stopping from different speeds, and it’s definitely correlated to the energy contained in the rotor and how fast I try to slow it down. So, it thinks it’s doing braking, but nothing is happening.

Well, I could leave it in coast mode, but what fun is not going down without a fight with a poorly documented Chinese product to the death?!


Step 1: Crack it open. Here’s what the power stage looks like. All the familiar trappings of a motor controller are there! Immediately, I can see that one of the gate drive optocouplers is missing…. probably the one that tugs on the braking IGBT.For a rundown on the symptoms I described here, read that article. It’s nice.

With some more research (read: forum threads… literally, read forum threads, like this one and this one) I found hints that a lot of these Inexpensive Chinese VFDs ship without any of the braking components populated. Given that this thing came with no potentiometer either, I’m entirely unsurprised. What I don’t get is what market they expect to sell to; a lot of them are advertised for process pumps (e.g. water pumps, blowers, oil pumps and the like) which I presume is a thing that doesn’t really need braking and doesn’t need constantly variable speed control, but maybe just 2 or 3 speeds and an on/off.

That’s another thing about Chinesium I can appreciate, even if I find it frustrating. Everything is stripped down and rat rodded to the point of doing only 1 thing, but it will probably do that 1 thing very well.

Staring at the P+ and PR terminals for the braking resistor under a backlight shows that there’s nothing connected to PR. It looks like there should be a wire jump…

Probably to here. The missing IGBT is connected via a wire jump to something. It’s functioning (based on the pinout of most IGBTs of this package) as a common-emitter  switch, one leg tied to ground and the other leg pulling on something. That something is supposed to be the DC rail (P+) through the braking resistor (between P+ and PR). My board seems to be a newer revision than the ones found on those threads, as a lot of the parts which were 8pin through-hole parts are now SMT parts, and the layout is different. Either way, from my investigation, 2 parts are missing: Q23, the bremschopper, and PC11, the optocoupled driver which tells it what to do.

So, if I haven’t reiterated, I fucking hate digging through forum threads to find the answer to my question. All y’all need to learn to keep a website. Read on if you want to add dynamic braking to your Inexpensive Chinese VFD!

I figured the parts used for this extra drive circuit should just be the same as the rest, so I ordered a pack of the IGBTs used on the board – FGH60N60SMD. The optocoupler driver TLP701AF didn’t have an exact match in-stock at Digi-Key, so I went for a similar equipped part number, TLP701HF.  The -AF part seems to have tighter switching time tolerances. In a single switch configuration here, I figured it doesn’t matter.

By the way, fully optocoupled drive is something I really, really want for Brushless Rage… but it takes up a whole lot of space compared to some driver ICs :(

Mounting the IGBT onto the power stage required some creativity. I cut up a spare RageBridge silicone insulation tab for it, and mounted it on the heat sink plate where it should go. Then I bent the legs up to the point where they should fall right into the empty solder eyes on the board. I decided to do it this way since trying to solder the IGBT to the board first wouldn’t have guaranteed it being able to lie down flat on the heat sink.

On the board itself, I made the wire jump from Q23 to the PR terminal.

And finally, I reflowed PC11, the optocoupler, onto the board.

And you know what?! That was it!

Man, whoever made this just couldn’t be motivated to put the extra 3 parts on it, eh? Guys, we saved like 80 cents! Yay!

Granted, again, if 99% of your users just drive their hydroponic pot farms with it, they’ll never need the braking feature and you might as well leave those parts out. For everything else, there’s my fucking MasterCard. Ugh.

Here’s a test video showing the braking in action. I cycle through the viewable parameters when the motor is running so you can see the DC bus spike up before the resistor does its job.

“DCB” is an added braking option where after the frequency gets low enough, it will just short the leads of the motor together. This provides extra braking power for speeds that are too low to generate any voltage to push across the braking resistor.

So there you have it. That’s literally the only thing stopping these controllers from being more useful running machinery! Now that I have additional parts, I’m going to purchase another one and wire up the lathe too.

Beyond Unboxing: The Harbor Freight Brushless & Lithium Extravaganza – 40V Lynxx Chainsaw

Harbor Freight! Brushless! LITHIUM! IN THE SAME SENTENCE?! Words I and many others never expected to hear, much less experience in person. But here we are, in $CURRENT_YEAR, where a Harbor Freight product contains this…

Welcome back to BEYOND UNBOXING, where Charles buys small consumer / industrial devices to take apart and cruelly comment on their parts and construction. I believe in looking for parts in unexpected places and using them across intended industries, so the intent of the series is to inspire people to go “Huh… well I guess you could use it to drive my electric combination briefcase & portable document shredder”. I only reverse-engineer as far as it’s convenient to do so, because the rest of it is your job.  My previous ventures in this series have all focused on building sillier go-karts and stupider robots, and this shall continue the same trend.

Two years ago, I took apart and analyzed the Ryobi brushless chainsaw, back when these things were still relatively new and fancy. There’s been a recent explosion (and not even in the lithium sense!) of brushless lithium-ion outdoor power equipment market, which is great because those tools are more likely to have motors on the scale of one human butt-moving-power, or the 1+ kilowatt range. Now that Harbor Freight has even gotten in on the game, that’s when you know the concept has matured! Sorry Harbor Freight, please still love me.

I was clued into this when I was on my semi-weekly pilgrimage to Harbor Freight (ask anyone who knows me – this is real) and talking to them about #season3 plans when I asked about when Harbor Freight was going to start going brushless.


> mfw "We got something in 2 weeks ago you should see!"


I forgot what it was I went to Harbor Freight for, but I sure as hell left with a chainsaw for some reason. Introducing the 63287 Lynxx 40V 14″ cordless chainsaw!

Welp… it begins again. I see that the “GAS-LIKE POWER!” fat-substitute additive marketing line has since been taken over by claims such as “BETTER THAN GAS!”. I can think of a few things better than gas, such as nausea and indigestion. This is the presentation – unlike the Ryobi (whose packaging status I haven’t checked in on), the whole chainsaw ships in a box without the chainsaw part sticking out.


That’s because it ships disassembled, with the saw chain in a separate baggie and the bar dismounted. I think this is better for the product’s survival rates. Anyways, once you get inside, the presentation becomes a bit messier, with stuff taped in place to other stuff. But we’re not here to wax our neckbeards over how the product appears in the box – no, not all. After all, I would have been satisfied with a presentation any more nuanced than Harbor Freight staff literally throwing the chainsaw at me. I would even be okay with it if it were off at the time.

Here’s all the parts! Bigger white box is the battery charger, little white box is the battery itself.

Well, since there’s still boxes, let’s unbox them! This is the battery charger base and battery. We’ll be checking out what is going on inside both of them. The battery feels awfully small for the saw it’s supposed to be running, but that’s lithium being deceptively power dense, so I won’t prejudge yet. The battery charger feels very light – a sort of “We know this is 1 PCB inside here, but here’s our attempt to make it look like it houses a miniature nuclear power station!” design language.

The battery comes apart with just four Torx T20 screws. Nice try, product design gods. The first thing we notice is that yes, there are in fact 10 cells in there – 10 of what self-reports as Samsung INR18650-25R cells, quite a reasonable choice. The 18650 market in my opinion is just as, if not even more competitive than the flat cell market, since it’s a singular form factor used in multiple industries which production engineers can really mutually stroke over. The best commonly available 18650 cells are 3.6Ah and But Charles, this site is selling a STOP LINKING ME SHITTY CHINESE “5000mAh” 18650s BECAUSE THOSE ARE ALL FAKE. Experimental pre-release ones, as of my last knowledge sync, were approaching 4.0Ah per cell legitimately – so who knows, maybe one of these days.

The next thing we see is a 40 amp fuse.

Nope, not an electronic fuse made of MOSFETs, or a cutoff circuit made of the same. Just an honest-to-Baby Robot Jesus 40A ATO fuse, soldered in place. You blow it, you’re done! Unless you’re me and selectively bypass your fuses for extra hilarity in life. The low-cost-ness was starting to show through.

The OEM of this battery is shown on the silkscreen of the PCB. They also seem to be the OEM of the whole unit. Holy hell, they have a Brushless Drill. AND A BRUSHLESS SAW. And their choice of color coordination is based around MIKU BLUE AND BLACK! Damn, did I start a Chinese tool company and forget about it or something?

YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS? HARBOR FREIGHT BRUSHLESS DRILL CONFIRMED Serious talk though – their 40V blower is the same as the Harbor Freight 40V brushless blower. I found this unit less enticing because it’s more or less a ducted fan in a tube.  But I really hope we start seeing the brushless drill soon.

Fancy little fuel gauge light on the battery, a normal characteristic of lithium drill batteries everywhere. This fuel gauge is powered by a Chinese 8051-like microcontroller

Something felt wrong, though. I inspected the board thoroughly for any signs of current measurement devices, which would let you ‘coulomb count’ and keep track of the battery state of charge. But there was no such hardware. Nor were there even cell-level taps so the controller can sense what the battery cell charge levels are and accommodate for them. You usually see this in the form of large power resistors that are shunted in and out of higher-voltage cells. The controller keeps the cells within a certain charge variation window, or can declare the pack dead to the power tool if one cell takes a dive.

I couldn’t see any circuitry at all that could be described as a battery management system. This, plus the presence of the internal 40A fuse (that needs disassembly and soldering to replace), makes me fairly sure that this battery is running by the Grace of Robot Jesus alone. The little fuel gauge light is likely just a voltage sensor.

I even stared at the underside of the board to see if there were parts I missed. Nope – besides connector pins sticking out, I could see no signs of cell taps, current sensors, or bleeder circuits.

Now, truth be told, there is precedence for un-BMS’d lithium batteries. In fact, my old e-bike battery was a solid blob of 2.4Ah 18650 cells with just a thermistor wire coming out besides the main charge-discharge wires. It’s stayed working for the past ~5 years and continues to take in 6 to 7Ah every charge. If all the cells are well-matched for characteristics, then over their design lifespan they will never drift apart in charge level enough to be dangerous. Plus, there’s a hard fuse on the outputt in case of shorts. So this is some pretty intense cost cutting, or perhaps cost tradeoffs being made; purchase better quality cells, skimp on monitoring hardware.

I’m actually not sure how I feel about this. With all the recent chatter of explosive phone batteries, seeing a pack as ‘naked’ as this is a little concerning. However, even with a BMS, if you have a counterfeit or defective cell that just decides to let go, there is actually scant little you can do to prevent exothermic events from progressing. This is part of the Curse of the Hoverboard SEG-THING, DAMMIT! we experienced last year; I’ve taken apart SIX of those things. All of the batteries have a similar BMS card on them, and as far as I can tell, they all work. But if one counterfeit cell sneaks into your poorly verified and documented supply chain, you’re done and your product’s reputation is ruined.

So really the question is how MUCH do we trust this OEM to only use well-matched cells? WE REPORT, YOU DECIDE.

So up until this point, I’ve not actually shown how the two mate together. Like basically every tool battery these days, they slide together and lock, needing you to squeeze the latch to release. Nothing surprising here!


Here’s the inside of the charger after disengaging the four T20 screws holding it together. The “this is one board” theory is revealed to be true. Not that it’s surprising, since welcome to 99% of all consumer electronics today.


There’s no intelligent battery stuff going down here, really. It’s a 42 volt power supply, probably with constant-current and constant-voltage modes that automatically switch and that’s it. Really, that’s all you need to charge lithium batteries. The simplicity of the battery charger’s LED signals on the front panel speak to this. Either it’s running in CC mode and charging the battery up to, oh, maybe 80-90% SOC, or it’s in CV mode and it’s “done”. If anything else happens, like the battery voltage to start with is too low or it stops drawing current suddenly, is an “error”. Else if it’s been trying too hard, it’s an over-temp error.

So I had been wondering about the fan – it doesn’t seem to point at anything meaningful, like at the heat sinks. So what’s it trying to cool?


Well, here is the battery in its home orientation. It looks like the fan is supposed to pull air through the battery case – which IS vented, so no IPxx protection for you – and help keep the cells cooler.

So in conclusion, there’s nothing very revolutionary about the battery. It’s reasonably middle of the road technology, well cost optimized, and well packaged. Time will tell if the lack of real battery management circuitry will pose a problem. Let’s move onto the more interesting problem, the chainsaw itself!


I put together the whole unit for fun – clearly, if you are just after the motor, you don’t need to assemble the saw.


The frontmost (righthand) yellow knob locks the chain bar down in place, or it dismounts the whole light-gray cover at the same time unbolting the chain bar, if you untighten it. The winged yellow knob to the left adjusts chain tension by moving the whole bar in and out. This is much the same story as the Ryobi, and seems to be common to chainsaws in general. In fact it seems to be one-better than the Ryobi because instead of tightening two nuts and a small screw to make the tension adjustments, you only handle two very large and visible knobs to make these adjustments. I dunno how helpful that is to chainsaw-monglers in real life, but I LOVE HUGE KNOBS it appears to be a better UI decision.

The disassembly begins! T-25 screws hold the handle onto the body. After those come out, the handle is removed. On the back, more T-25 screws hold the motor cover on. I basically began removing every screw in sight on the back side, and the motor cover was the the highest level group of screws. It popped off to reveal:

Okay, this is getting interesting already. We see that the motor is a rather large inrunner-type motor, instead of the outrunner type in the Ryobi. A worm gear-driven oil pump to supply chain oil is tied directly off the rear of the motor shaft. All of these screws holding the pump on can be removed now, to free up maneuvering the motor out later.


By the way, just out of curiosity, I took apart the tension adjustment mechanism, and it is a nifty small crown gear setup.

This crown gear actuates a threaded rod, running longitudinally here, with a nut riding on the end that pulls the bar back and forth.

The next step to disassembly is removing the motor chain sprocket there in the middle. This involves either retaining ring pliers or two small flat-drive screwdrivers and a lot of creative swearing. I used to despise retaining rings in middle and high school before I gained the tools to work with them. Now I love them! Overhaul is basically one big snap ring!

All the T-25 screws on this side pop off, and then the saw basically falls into two halves cleanly.

This thing has a nifty auto-shutoff clutch/brake that is actuated by the big black flap to the upper right. The black flap has to be pulled back for the saw to run. There is a sensing switch that otherwise prevents the motor from being started, as well as a mechanical stop that consists of a pin being spring-loaded into a hub mounted on the motor shaft. This mechanical assembly is shown in the rest state above, where it prevents the motor from turning as well as interlocks the controller.

As I have not actually chainsawed anything in half recently, I figure this is an automatic stop at the end of a cut when your saw falls through the now-cut material. Any small amount of pressure and movement seems to be enough to click the flap back to its home position.

The flap and the motor-stopping pin shown in the working position. Anyone know why this saw has such a feature when the Ryobi didn’t?


The controller is the next easiest thing to slip out, as it just sits in a square cubby. Along with it comes the battery connector and two switches: the trigger switch and the flappy interlock switch.

The clutch parts can be removed as soon as the saw is open.

The motor shroud comes out next after the removal of three small fiberglass-plate retainer clips held in by Phillips head screws.


Finally, some last T25 screws later, the motor can be lifted out.

And here it is. This is actually a huge motor. It physically outsizes the Ryobi motors by at least twice in volume and weight.  It has a 12mm double-D-to-10mm-flats shaft, similar to the Ryobi. The big nosecone houses the chain-stop clutch mentione before.

I am utterly surprised at how huge the motor is, and am even more satisfied that it’s found in a $170 NEW saw. This motor is something I’d pay $170 for, period.

The controller, though, needs some more loving. First of all, it’s ON-OFF ONLY in stock form. It ramp-starts the motor up to full speed once both AND-wired (series connected) switchs are closed. When either one is released, it hard-brakes the motor. So hard that the first time it did so, the motor torqued itself out of my hand and chased me around the shop.

I also practically destroyed it freeing it from its potted housing to take a look at the hardware. The architecture is “Classic Jasontroller” as people familiar with my brushless ESC vernacular will understand. It’s built like every e-bike controller I’ve ever seen, in other words. Discrete gate drive circuitry with big and brute force linear regulators.

The MCU is a very typical-Chinese STMicro 8-bit microcontroller, likely a genericized or pin-and-code compatible version available on the Chinese market, even though it has ST markings.

Given that the ESC is “one speed” and basically an e-bike controller, I’m not going to spend much more time talking about it. It’s a known quantity.

And a test video, where my friend forgot the “I’m done with motoring” cue and kept recording for a few awkwardly silent seconds:

So here are the guts of the 63287. My conclusion: It’s an undersized battery and undersized controller for the amount of motor that’s in this thing. Having “one speed” – that’s full speed – compared to the variable speed controller in the Ryobi makes a little more sense now. When the controller is only fully-on and the MOSFETs are not chopping current, there’s less losses to worry about and less heating. That means you can get away with a smaller controller with less semiconductors.

You’d just hope the motor never wants to draw more than 40 amps for a while. That IS a good 1500-1600 watts of cutting, mind you, and through some VERY TERRIFYING locked-rotor testing I discovered the controller does have a stall-protection cutoff feature as wel as a rotor blockage detection on starting. You haven’t lived until this motor has thrown an 8″ Vise-grip at you, but I suppose that’s pretty damn close to dying for something I proclaim to be living-related.

Without further hacking, though, the controller is borderline useless for EV purposes. I could MAYBE see a case for a robot weapon or using it in some other related application like meloncopters for fun, where you’re more likely to be running at full power. However, that battery will not last very long under said full power conditions – 40 amps will drain it in minutes, and if you go over that, you’re likely to blow the fuse up inside.

So I think we see the “Harbory-Freightyness” expressed through some interesting cost-sensitive decisions on the OEM end, such as the lack of a BMS for the battery and no variable speed control. But dat motor – let’s investigate it more.

That is an interesting-ass back-EMF waveform. Hey, this reminds me of my ‘middle finger wave’ days! I can’t even remember what I was building then, but it sure as hell didn’t work.

I spun it with my Milwaukee brushless drill (because my life is brushless) to collect this motor’s intrinsic BEMF profile, a.k.a what the motor really wants you to drive it with. To collect the vernacular “Kv” value – RPMs per volt at no-load, there’s a process involved.

You can take half the peak-to-peak value of this waveform as seen on the oscilloscope and use the relation Vpp/2 [Volts] * delta-T [seconds] / 2π [radians] = Vpp [Volts] * delta-T [seconds] / (4π) [radians] ¹. This yields a value in SI units for the BEMF constant, V*s / rad. Generally, radians are considered unitless so they are not written in unit analyses, but I like to keep them there for less confusion when converting into RPM (rotations per minute, or 2π radians per minute)

For this motor and the measurements shown, the Vpp is 21V and electrical period of the line-to-line voltage is 13.5 milliseconds. This yields a BEMF constant of 0.022 Vs/Rad, which in “Kv” form  RPM per Volt is 423.

To get the mechanical RPM of the motor, this basic RPM/V value must be divided by the number of magnetic pole pairs. 423 RPM/V represents what the “unit” 3 phase motor with 2 magnets and 3 phase windings would be. This motor has nine phase windings, but how many magnets does it have?

Three 3mm socket cap screws later and you can very carefully and gingerly work the motor apart. I chose to remove everything from the back side in order to not deal with the mechanical stop hub. The magnetic pull is very powerful and taking the motor down this far is definitely not for the faint of heart or fancier of fingertips.

Counting the magnets reveals there are 6 magnets, or 3 pairs of magnets. Consequently, the RPM/V-as-you-see-it is 423 / 3 [Pole Pairs], yielding 141 RPM/V.  As a sanity check, I actually used a tachometer on the motor being driven by the controller, and measured about 6300 RPM on ~40 volts, yielding a value of approximately 157 RPM/V.

This is a slower motor than the Ryobi’s approx. 300 RPM/V.  All other parameters being equal, this motor trades speed for torque. Since I don’t chainsaw things reguarly, I’d really be interested to see videos of this saw in competition with others to see what the variation in speed does to affect the cut. But what it means for “other” applications is the need to use less gear ratio for the same output speed and torque, possibly simplifying design.


The motor has a hefty fan on the end and the rotor is reinforced by a stamped steel cup that is also epoxy-bonded to the magnet and the laminated(!) rotor. I think this rotor can survive some overspeed excursions just fine.

Pretty densely packed windings. The airgap diameter of the rotor is exactly 50mm, and the stator lamination unit is 32mm long. I measured the line-to-line resistance as an average of around 39 milliohms. This puts the motor easily in the class of the common 63mm outrunners for power throughput ability. Compare Overhaul’s SK3-6374-149 lift motors at roughly the same Kv and 40-42 milliohms phase resistance; this motor has more iron and copper by mass than the SK3s, so it will be able to hold a certain power dissipation (load) for longer.

Like I said – wow, so much motor for comparatively little everything else! I guess that’s where the money went… everything certainly shows a little for it. I see this product as having a potential future upgrade path with a much larger battery and controller that can push 1.5 to 2x the power into it. That would be chasing after the Greenworks 80V tools in power, I think, having seen a GW 80v chainsaw motor before.

To use this motor well, I think it should be paired with a 150-200A controller to really take advantage of its power capability. It’s not sensored, unlike the Ryobi motor, so that complicates things a little bit – you can’t just throw a Kelly at it, for instance. Maybe BRUSHLESS RAGE a SimonK-flashed large R/C controller or whenever we see a bigger VESC design.

Anyways, is someone interested in a cordless chainsaw without a motor? Contact me. Oh, it’s also taken apart into a billion pieces. Should go back together with a bit of tinkering!

¹ Okay, so I actually confused myself a little because I haven’t mentally checked my motor math in a while. It’s often the case that “BEMF Constant” or Ke refers to the BEMF contribution of one phase. This is most commonly encountered in academic treatments of motors such as this one (See page 13 Equation 14) and this one (See Equation 7.6 in Section 7.3, pp. 36) because it is simpler to use the single phase contribution in vector math with the other three phases. There is an extra 1/sqrt(3) difference from the L2L (line to line) measured voltage versus the single phase-to-neutral (L2N, P2N) contribution. It’s how we get 208V mains electricity from 120V.  However, I seem to do things differently, concentrating on using the motor. When you power the motor in typical BLDC trapezoidal commutation fashion, you power 2 phases. Therefore, you can’t use the Ke of 1 phase only in isolation – the phase 120 degrees offet from it will contribute the additional sqrt(3) voltage. Using Ke alone as-described in those papers will get you a Kv [RPM/V] that is sqrt(3) more than reality. I had to look back through my notes and crosscheck this with physical measurements to convince myself I wasn’t going insane. Be careful with information on the Internet, kiddies.

Beyond Unboxing Returns with some #Season2 Shenanigans: Axent Wear Kitty Ear Headphones!

It sure feels good to be back doing one of these again! It’s been a while since the last one, about little hub motors that you can now buy instead of e-mail me about; since then, they started making EVEN SMALLER ONES! Now we’re talking 8wd Chibikart Pike’s Peak Hillclimb Edition levels, or the go-kart equivalent of the Human Centipede or whatever. Your tastes might vary.

On this edition of Beyond Unboxing, we explore a product that is so quintessentially me for some reason that everyone has felt the need to go “Hey! Have you seen this thing? It’s so totally you!“. I’m of course talking about…

Little known story: The whole reason my ears existed on Battlebots, and subsequently I became known as “cat ear guy”, was because I made them as a knockoff of Jamison’s ears which were a directly inspired knockoff of the Axent Wear. See, unlike Jamison, I never finished mine, so they were merely hollow shells. Not only that, but I basically brought them as an afterthought – as a “okay, might as well look goofy if needed” accessory stuffed into the very top of my luggage.

In fact, his knockoffs were so convincing that many people also told him that “Dude, you got ripped off!” when they heard of the Axents.  Ah, the circle of Internet fame.

This does seem a little out of the ordinary as something I would just go out and buy, since it’s not some kind of obscure motor controller or power tool… but there’s a story to that too. Apparently the producers of Battlebots were at CES 2016, saw them, and were reminded of me. It helped that (allegedly) the booth personnel were fans of the show. A week later, I had a unit in hand after it was given to them and shipped to me! Awesome. Brookstone, if you want your name on #season2, we need to talk. You guys need to put a liiiiiittle more effort into sponsorship than that, wink wink, but not much more!

So here we go… Oh boy.

Yup. #Season2 will. Be. Insane. Now, those who are genre-savvy with Beyond Unboxing posts will know that I pretty much only make these posts if I already have plans for something. In a way, they are a barometer for what I might skulk off to do next. I’ll explain how this ties into the #Season2 (I will pretty much only refer to #Season2 using a hashtag, by the way) plans soon.

At first, I didn’t really intend to take these apart. But then I was showing somebody, and I dropped them. And then, I only had one side’s lighting left over… uh oh!

Get ready for some Beyond Unboxing, where I take these apart gratuitously in order to see what might have gone wrong with the wiring when they were dropped, and alongside, give a quick tour of consumer product design.

Here is the beginning of the presentation. It comes packed in a plain black, non-showy form-fitting zipper case. This is an alien concept to me, since I guess I’ve never owned “nice” headphones in my life until recently when I picked up a HyperX Cloud gaming headset secondhand, and it also had a case.

Inside the case, the headphone cable and boom mike live on the left, while an included USB micro-B cable for charging is on the right.

The unit by itself. Once again, I don’t claim to know anything about nice headphones. I assume they all have this many degrees of freedom!

I’m not sure if I am a fan of the sound yet. It’s quite “boomy”, reminding me of the times I tried some Beats by Dre – all bass and low end, and nothing spectacular elsewhere. I suppose it fits well with current pop and hip-hop music. Either way, it’s well known that I am a Hipster of the Nth Degree when it comes to music, so I explicitly absolve myself of any authority on this matter.

A closeup of the lighting effects. The LEDs are clearly white – just the plastic colored ring determines the color of the glow. My issue was that the right-hand side (as pictured, so “left ear) was very sporadic, like a connector was barely hanging on or something.

For those who haven’t seen these used, the headphones are passively powered via the cord like you’d expect – but the lighting and external speakers (in the ears) are battery-powered, hence it needs periodic charging.

Let’s start popping stuff apart. First, the earpads can easily be slipped off (I keep wanting to call them “ear poofs”, but they have a name):

This exposes four small screws to open the housings.

Use a small Phillips driver (I had a #1 – this seems to be correct) to open the housings.

Here’s what they look like on the inside. The left side has the audio input and microphone jacks. The signals travel to the other side which contains the amplifier and power supply board.

The signal input board is held in by two small screws. I also pulled out the spring clips which give the housings a bit of “detent” feel in their yokes (the forks they’re mounted to) – that’s how they stay in place if you fold them. There’s a small plastic plug that the spring clip mates with that pulls out easily. From there, the housing can be full removed…

..If you’re more careful than me. I tried to remove the housing entirely, but I misaliged the other side and broke off the other pin-like structure its mounted to. No consequence, but there will be more sloppy movement as a result. Being more careful instead of pulling harder probably could have avoided this. Alas, the difference between a hub motor and little plastic speakers.

Regardless if the housing comes off the yoke or not, the plastic accent ring and cap can be removed from the inside using four screws. Two of these are accessible only if the input board is removed.

Check out the LED ring. I plugged the board back in temporarily to show the lighting effect.

The LED board is smooth white on top and made of two pieces – the printed circuit board with the LEDs is mounted to the white ring, which is a light-diffusing plastic like what would be used on a LED backlight. This softens the glow and prevents you from seeing discrete LED dots.

A little prying and the printed circuit board comes off. The LEDs are a unique side-emitting package instead of the far more common top-emitting type.  The LEDs fire into the internal face of the light-diffusing plastic, causing the ring to glow very evenly.

This thing has become more hardcore than I had anticipated. I was thinking that there would be an easy way to change the color of the LEDs if needed. Not so much with these – they likely chose white since it can be slightly filtered by the color of the accent ring into any of their colors. Add to that the oddball package needed and your choices are limited.

The three components of the lighting accents… or Axents, if you will.

Moving to the larger board, the amplifier board – I damaged the battery connector trying to remove it. It’s held in place by a very one-way snap/detent, which I broke before getting the connector to back out. It still contacts fine however. Your experience may vary.

The other connectors are secured by a small amount of adhesive, but this comes off readily.

The amplifier board! I wish I could say something about its design, but it’s not a motor controller. I’ve not worked with audio ICs in the past, so unlike said motor controllers where I can tell you whether or not it’s worth using, the specific implementations of the ICs used are lost on me. All I know is it cannot flow 500 amps.

I played with searching for their datasheets, however, and in doing so I discovered that some of these are pretty damn obscure. As in, no English-language results worth following up on. I actually had better luck hopping on a Chinese search engine like Baidu. The vast majority of results regardless were trading websites, not manufacturer’s datasheets or similar, and they all claim ORIGINAL PART!!!! like it means something. It seems like a lot of these chips are genericized and made by many factories for myriad applications, so you just pick one off the cloud. The same phenomenon gave us Seg-things.

The major ICs listed, which I could track down anyway, are…

  • CSC8004 – SOIC-16 package, some kind of 2-channel amplifier. I could only find a datasheet for the 8002, but I assume the 8004 is just the 2 channel version of it.
  • TPA2017D2 – 20QFN package, a Class-D 2 channel amplifier. If I had to guess, this one drives the external ear speakers, since Class-Ds can push more power with less dissipation and the ear speakers do get quite loud.
  • SC51PS704 – an 8-bit microcontroller. Looks like one of many different 8051 clones – similar 8051 clones are used in a lot of Chinese e-bike controllers. So few pins are actually connected on it that I think it only handles button presses.
  • BT608M – this was the single hardest thing to find. There’s lots of places trying to sell it to me! When you start getting into places called “ICMiner” or “”, that’s when you part is obscure-ass. It’s also apparently a model of hospital bed, and Bluetooth-compatible speaker system. If I stopped searching early, I might have assumed it’s some kind of unimplemented Bluetooth hardware (but why even populate it then?). But I don’t think so – based on various side-channel mentions of it, such as this spammy blogpost, and this short title, I am led to believe it’s involved in the button-controlled volume for the ear speakers. If you can find this datasheet, you are better than me.
  • NJM2100 – a dual op-amp, SSOP-8 package.

Since these units are made in Taiwan and commissioned by a big company like Brookstone, I assume they have their entire network of Chinese parts traders which I realistically have no handle on at all.

The housing on the right-hand side contains a similarly shaped though not completely identical LED board, as well as a small battery in the hollow portion of the black cap.


The right side LED board taken apart. This one has more markings!

I temporarily hooked both back up to check for differences in light output and the patttern, but they function pretty much identically. By the way, as soon as you disconnect the battery, the system will not arm lights or external sound until you plug it into USB power at least once.

The ratings on the battery are obscured by a bit of rubber tape.

Scraping it off, you can see that the battery is 1.0Ah. Assuming you don’t crank the ear speakers at full tilt, this should last for several hours of using the lighting and ear speakers together. They claim 5 hours – I haven’t verified this yet, but some rough calculations – 3.7V * 1.0Ah is 3.7Wh nominal, of which 80% is typically available (assuming it lets you drain the battery to 20% SOC, divided by 5 hours gives an average usage of 0.6 watts. Plenty of sound for you and probably the people in your immediate vicinity.

None of this solved my lighting woes, though. The next step was to disassemble the headband to see how the signal cross from one side to another.

I’ll get this out of the way right now: I hate snap-fits. Hate everything about them, but they are the go-to these days for consumer products because of less parts cost (no hardware). But they’re generally one-way only – you try to dismantle them and they usually, you know, snap. Those that don’t just break off you can usually only get very limited assembly-disassembly cycles before they no longer hold.

That being said, the headband is held on by 18 terrifying snap-fits. Four are at the corners where the headband ends inside the little plastic bezels – pull those upwards (in the shown orientation). The headband itself has 10 snaps that pull towards the center of the loop:

And the method of transmission is revealed. A ribbon cable! Seemingly a somewhat fragile ribbon cable. I hooked the lighting back up to see if any joints here were loose. It seems like the very act of manhandling the ribbon cable area trying to undo the snap-fits fixed whatever the issue was, because now I had both sides of lighting again.

Okay then.

From website reviews, it seems like some times there are issues with one side completely losing functionality. I suspect an issue with either this ribbon cable (I also hate ribbon cables, but just a little less) or the interconnects between it and the left- and right-housings – tiny cables made of braided Litz wire which is enamel-coated. This strikes me as being rather fragile, though most audio signal cables I have seen are made of this wire.

A closeup of the ribbon cable. This is oriented with the inputsside to the right.

Alright, as long as I’ve gotten this far into it, let’s keep going and see what the ear speakers look like. To get to its mounting screws, there is a plastic cover which has two screws that needs to be removed. This piece is the “detent” surface for the headband adjustment, which generates the clicks you feel when you pull on it. It then slides up and away.

Three silver screws attach the ears. Two are directly accessible, the other one requires you to mash against the R+/R- connector pictures above a little bit.

Here is an ear!

After some prodding, I found that the bottom is held in by two small snaps which are easily released, but the top appears to be a plastic snap rivet which, predictably, snapped. Its wreckage can be seen at the top of the ear.

The ear speaker is a cute little 1″ driver encased a small bucket that is sealed with a ring that has some foam tape. The back of the bucket is open, but the ear is still a very small enclosure. The ear speakers sure sound like small speakers in a small plastic enclosure, like most Bluetooth speakers I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing – a ton of midrange, and not much else, muffled and tinny at the same time. An audiophile I am not.

The depth of the ear speaker.

The ear accents are constructed like the ones on the headphone housing, using side-emitting LEDs pointed into light-diffusing material. The blue speaker icon is a separate piece and easily removable.

I peeled back the rubber compound holding the LEDs to the diffuser. There’s only two LEDs here.

So there you have it! Now I have no clue how to put this thing back together! Hey Brookstone…

I hope you’ve enjoyed this tour of what a modern consumer electronics product basically looks like – lots of molded plastic, snap fits, and housing little printed circuit boards. I feel like they still have a few little quality issues to overcome, but in general the amount of effort that was put into these was beyond what I expected.

That same level of effort also makes these things much harder to modify, as I had said at the beginning. Why would I be thinking of modifying them though!? That’s because of….

#Season2, Or: BattleBots, the Anime?!

I’ve been throwing around this false hashtag #weeabot on purpose for a little while now (false meaning I don’t ACTUALLY have a Twitter or Instagram or Tumblr account where tags actually, you know, matter – I consider Facenet hashtags to be kind of vestigial) on places like r/battlebots or the BB official pages. Anyways, what it embodies is my continued unstated, half-assed life goal to increase the intersection between engineering and anime. Put simply, there’s just not enough of it – at least in meaningful ways. Just like I like my science fiction rather high up on the hardness scale, I like my engineering depictions somewhat plausible. This in general never happens.

I also have a desire to offer counterpoint to the likes of Kantai Collection, which has (in my opinion) completely ruined the mecha musume genre. I like girls and machinery, and consequently girls with machinery, but Kancolle’s character designs essentially have nothing to do with the machinery. You don’t just weld battleship parts to a schoolgirl archetype and try to sell it to me. And the worst part is, it’s spawned endless look-alikes which have the same problem. It’s gotten so bad that even Toyota has started doing it. That’s truly when your genre jumps the shark*.

I can’t not say IMPOSSIBRU, sorry.

To matter the reason, if I don’t like anything on the market, I tend to make my own. RageBridge (and RageBridge 2) was a direct response to how much other motor controllers in the market segment sucked (AND STILL SUCK).

Now, an artist I am not, but luckily I have the help of the magical and talented Cynthia, who also brought you Arduino-chan as seen here last year. Besides returning again to help with the fabrication and electrical work for next generation Overhaul, she will also be creating team cosplays uniforms designs, as well as an “Overhaul character” in the vein of the mecha musume series and the, umm, Priusettes, which you loving and adoring fans may cosplay as in the live audience! One that doesn’t suck.

Here is a preview of things to come…

So there you have it. While I’ll be cranking on making OH2 hypothetically easier to service, faster, and more reliable (read: less fail), she will be making the brand. A robot TV show is about more than just the robots, after all. And especially in this day and age, you won’t really know what becomes popular due to the Internet Hype Machine ahead of time, so perhaps this is an exciting new direction. Hell, if all goes well, we’ll have a character for EVERY  #SEASNON2 entry – there will be surely something for everybody.

And lastly – so why did I feel the need to “mod” the Axent Wear? Because the shade of blue doesn’t match the new “team color” (and robot thematic color) for OH2, digital goddess and “That girl Charles has a sticker of on everything he owns” Hatsune Miku:

Of course it’s a Miku-van

It’s more of an aqua/cyan color, which involves a wavelength of LED that is not common at all, much less in sideshooter package. What I’ll probably just do is 3D print translucent-white accent rings (the currently blue parts) and coat them with something that is more aqua. (To my knowledge, nobody makes an already-translucent aqua/cyan 3D print filament).

Oh yeah, definitely expect the whole bot – however it ends up looking – to be plastered in character stickers and corresponding thematic paintwork. Since Miku is a copyrighted character, it will probably be whatever the OH2 character ends up as. I have a few places that can provide the necessary vinyl graphics.

And finally, for something vaguely robot related…

Those are rubber bumpies, similar to the ones used on OH1 but smaller and more numerous. Yum, bumpies. All shall be explained soon – I have over sixty design screenshots of OH2 to write up as soon as I’m more than 90% sure I won’t get kickb&4lyf for doing so.

#season2 #weeabot

*Not to shit on Toyota too hard for this campaign, since they did hire many different amateur artists to make the individual designs. It’s made the Prius about 2% less horrifying in my mind.