Black Squirrel Contesting Group

The Black Squirrel Contesting Group is the name given to PCARS contesters. Whether we’re operating from home as part of a team or gathering at the PCARS club site to share our love of contesting, our goal is always the same: to embody the club’s motto of having Big Fun in Amateur Radio!

From casual contest operations to serious efforts, it’s the camaraderie, friendly competition, and enjoyment of getting on the air that bring us together.


Getting your Ham ticket doesn’t mean you’ve arrived;
You’ve just started!


Black Squirrel Contesting Group

Minnesota and British Columbia QSOPs Feb 7-8
Freeze Your Acorns Off Feb 21
Idaho and Wisconsin QSOPs Mar 14-15
Florida QSOP Apr 25-26
7th Call Area QSOP May 2-3
Indiana QSOP May 2-3
Delaware QSOP May 2-3
New England QSOP May 2-3
ARRL International Digital Contest June 6-7
Field Day June 27-28
NA QSOP RTTY July 18-19
Ohio QSOP & BBQ Aug 22-23
OSPOTA Sep 12
Washington Salmon Run Sep 19-20
California QSO Party Oct 3-4
CQ WW DX SSB Contest Oct 24-25

So, What’s the Big Deal?

Contesting… Why do some of us HAMS do it? Why do I do it?
Let me try to explain.

Amateur Radio contesting, sometimes called Radio Sport, is, at its most basic level, a competition to see who can make the most contacts and, as a result, achieve the highest score in a particular event. Every contest has rules that must be followed. If they aren’t, an Amateur can be disqualified, or their final log may be listed as a “check log.”

In some contests, the rules are pretty basic: make as many contacts as possible during the allotted time, using the bands and modes permitted by the contest.

Some contests are SSB only or CW only. Others allow not only SSB and CW but also many of the digital modes available to us. Some contests are limited to the HF bands, while others may include a combination of HF and VHF/UHF. There are even contests where you can receive penalties for not getting the required exchange exactly right.

You can enter a contest on your own as a single operator, or you can be part of a club entry. You can operate from your home station, from a club station, or operate portable using battery power or a generator. You can even participate while roving in your vehicle, moving from one location to another to make contacts.

At last count, there were well over 500 contests scheduled for 2026, with more being added every year. And that doesn’t include clubs that sponsor their own contests, as PCARS, our club, does.

There’s another interesting aspect of contesting: some clubs are formed specifically for contesting and little else. So, if all an Amateur wants to do is contest with a group of other HAMS, there are clubs that provide exactly that opportunity without all the social activities that other Amateur Radio clubs may offer.

And lest I forget, there are also contest stations built specifically for contesting. Some of these stations represent a significant investment of both time and money. Years can be spent designing and building a station, along with a considerable amount of money spent on equipment, antennas, towers, amplifiers, and other improvements. The goal is to create a station that gives the operators the best possible opportunity to compete successfully.

All of these contests are supposed to provide a fun and challenging operating experience for those HAMS who enjoy contesting.

But don’t think for one minute that there isn’t a high level of competition involved!

Even though these are supposed to be friendly events, sometimes feathers get ruffled. The bands can become very crowded, especially on weekends when multiple contests are taking place at the same time.

But there is also a great positive side to all of this: we Amateurs are using the bands! And that is important. The more we use our allocated frequencies and demonstrate that Amateur Radio is an active and vibrant service, the stronger our case is when others might want to take over portions of those frequencies.

So, yes, contesting can be competitive, noisy, complicated, and sometimes even frustrating.

But for those of us who enjoy it, that’s also what makes it so much fun.

I briefly mentioned that there are some positive aspects to contesting for the Amateur Radio operator. I can think of none better than learning what your station can—and sometimes cannot—do.

You certainly don’t need a high-powered contest station to compete. In fact, there are plenty of successful contesters who do quite well with a 100-watt rig and a dipole antenna. No legal-limit amplifier. No antenna farm that would make the neighbors wonder if you’re secretly operating a radio station for NASA. Just 100 watts and a piece of wire hanging somewhere in the air.

And they do it successfully because they have learned how to get the absolute most out of what they have.

They’ve learned how to operate a limited station efficiently. They’ve developed the skills necessary to make contacts when the bands are crowded and, every now and then, even get the better of a high-power station. That can be pretty satisfying!

They’ve also learned how to set up their station so that it works for them. Good ergonomics become important when you’re going to spend hours sitting in that chair. You learn where everything needs to be, how to reach it, and how to avoid turning your operating position into something resembling the cockpit of a 747.

And then there’s the other piece of the puzzle: learning about yourself.

How long can you operate before you really need a break? How much sleep do you need before the contest starts? When should you be on one band instead of another? When should you chase that rare multiplier, and when should you stay put and keep making contacts? How can you take advantage of changing propagation conditions to improve your score?

In short, you learn how to get the most out of both your station and yourself.

I’ve done much the same thing over my years as an Amateur Radio operator. I’ve learned the capabilities of my radio and antenna system. I’ve learned what I can physically handle during a contest. And I’ve learned that, as I’ve gotten older, those capabilities have changed.

Unfortunately, some of those changes have not been improvements! The radio hasn’t gotten any heavier, but somehow I have. And the chair that seemed perfectly comfortable for eight hours when I was younger now starts making its opinion known considerably sooner!

But I’m still eager to learn new methods of contesting and DXing. And I mention DXing for a reason. I’ve found that many of the things I’ve learned through contesting have made me a better DXer. Contesting teaches you how to listen, how to recognize opportunities, how to work stations efficiently, and how to take advantage of propagation when it decides to cooperate—which, of course, is not always when we would like it to.

Having said all of that, there is probably one thing that explains why I find contesting so much fun.

I have a competitive spirit.

Okay…maybe a little too much competitive spirit.

Frankly, I think that for many of us contesters, that competitive personality is a big part of what makes Radio Sport so much fun. Why else would someone spend all that time—and, let’s be honest, all that money—building a contest station? Even a modest contest station represents an investment of time, money, and effort.

And then, after we get everything set up, what do we do?

We immediately start thinking about how to make it better!

We constantly want our stations operating at their best. Better antennas. Better software. Better ergonomics. Better operating techniques. And, of course, that one piece of equipment that will undoubtedly make us faster, more efficient, and possibly a few points better next year.

At least, that’s what we tell ourselves when we buy it.

So who do we compete with?

Well, the big contest stations generally compete against other big contest stations. There are a handful of well-known stations that always seem to show up near the top of the various contest leaderboards. Stations like K3LR, W3LPL, and PJ2T come to mind.

But I have a problem.

I have what I affectionately call a “small pistol station.”

So I’m probably not going to go head-to-head with K3LR or W3LPL anytime soon. And I’m certainly not going to wake up one morning and discover that PJ2T has been replaced by W8PT at the top of the leaderboard.

So, who do I compete against?

W8PT.

My station.

I compete against myself.

My goal is to see if I can improve from one year to the next. Everything else being equal, did I do better in this year’s contest than I did last year?

Did my score suffer because I was too tired?

Did propagation beat me up?

Did I miss opportunities because I wasn’t paying attention?

Did I make some stupid operating mistake?

Did I simply have a bad day and wasn’t on top of my game?

Or…

Did I really do a lot better than I did last year?

And, more importantly, did I learn something along the way?

That, to me, is a big part of the fun.

There are a myriad of reasons why some of us HAMS contest while others couldn’t care less about it. And that’s perfectly okay.

That is one of the things I love about Amateur Radio.

There is room for all of us.

Some operators enjoy sitting in front of a radio and chatting with a friend down the road. Others enjoy working a repeater. Some like emergency communications. Others enjoy building equipment, experimenting with antennas, chasing satellites, operating digital modes, or hunting down that one DX station they need for a new country.

And then there are people like me who apparently think it’s a perfectly reasonable way to spend a weekend sitting in a chair for hours on end, shouting into a microphone, “CQ CONTEST!” while watching a score climb on a computer screen.

Different strokes for different folks.

That’s the wonder of Amateur Radio. It is such a broad and varied hobby that we can each find the part of it that challenges us, interests us, and—most importantly—makes us want to turn on the radio and have some fun.

For me, that happens to be contesting and DXing.

And if I can beat W8PT this year, well…then I’ll have something to work on next year!

Why do some Amateurs, like me, love to contest and chase DX, while others wouldn’t cross the street to watch someone doing it? I really don’t know… go figure!

Well, that’s not entirely true. I have a strong opinion that it has a lot to do with what we want from the hobby—and perhaps even more with how we got involved in Amateur Radio in the first place.

Some folks are perfectly satisfied using an HT to talk across town on 2 meters, or perhaps a little farther through a repeater. Others will spend money on a 2-meter mobile rig and drill holes in a perfectly good car so they can talk to people across town while driving down the road.

And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. The hobby is supposed to serve us in whatever way we enjoy it.

Then there are nuts like me.

I’ll spend loads of money putting together the best station I can afford just so I can talk to people across the state.

OK… you know I don’t mean that.

I use my station—and several antennas—to talk to other Hams around the world.

Why?

I think it’s because that’s what got me started in Amateur Radio in the first place.

When I was a young teenager, I was listening one evening to a new RCA transistor radio I had received for my birthday. I noticed a switch on it marked “SWL” and decided to flip it just to see what it meant. I pulled up the radio’s chrome telescopic antenna, and what I heard was a guy named Harry in Twinsburg talking with a guy in Missouri.

I thought that was the greatest thing I had ever experienced—at least up to that point in my young life. (Two years later, I actually talked with Harry myself and received his QSL.)

I was hooked.

I got my best friend involved, and together we stepped into a hobby that would last a lifetime. My buddy, Duane, K8DI, is now a Silent Key, but for many years we had the greatest time talking with each other and with other Hams throughout the greater Youngstown area.

Six meters was especially exciting back in the ’60s. During the summers, I could regularly talk every Saturday with a Ham in Guadeloupe, Scotty, FG7XT. I also worked stations in Puerto Rico and well into the northern reaches of Canada, not to mention all the states I worked with 100 watts and a wire antenna. Later, I added a Hi-Gain Long John six-element beam at 50 feet, and the world seemed to get even smaller.

You see, I was hooked on working DX because I was curious.

I wanted to know how Hams in other countries got started in Amateur Radio. What kind of equipment were they using? What were their stations like? And how in the world were they managing to talk to me from thousands of miles away?

Then Duane and I entered our first Field Day from a tent in my backyard. I was hooked again—this time by contesting. I still have the copy of QST where our callsigns are listed in the Field Day results for that year. It’s one of those little pieces of Amateur Radio history that I’ve held onto all these years.

And that brings me to why I’ve written this missive about my entry into the world of DXing and contesting.

I plan to periodically post articles on this page about Ham Radio contesting and chasing DX. I’ll cover not only the basics, but also some of the finer points that can help those who would like to get started in contesting or chasing DX—or those who are already doing it but could use a little additional information. Because there’s always something more to learn.

We need to keep learning, or we stagnate. As I—and many others—have always said:

Getting your Ham ticket doesn’t mean you’ve arrived.

You’ve just started.