By Hansl Hohlleiter, Special Correspondent for Involuntary Escalations
It was Monday morning. The first Monday after the clock change. All of Carinthia had slept one hour less, coffee mugs were gripped more tightly than usual, and in the shacks there reigned that irritable baseline mood that arises when the body says “six o’clock” but the clock insists “seven”. Then it happened.
08:03. A spot on SOTAwatch. A summit. A frequency. A callsign.
What followed was a masterclass in what happens when the SOTA community meets test mode.
The Diving Catch
A Carinthian ham – otherwise known for her composed demeanour – reported a “diving catch for the radio”. Picture this: A grown woman, already robbed of an hour by the clock change, presumably still in her bathrobe, sailing across the kitchen, knocking the coffee off the table and landing belly-first in front of the transceiver. VFO to frequency. Headphones on. And then?
Silence.
Nothing.
Nada.
Or as they say in the Gail Valley: “Not much to hear around here.”
The Culprit
For what had happened? A Carinthian ham – the perpetrator of the Monday morning tsunami – had posted a test spot. A test spot. On the first Monday after the clock change. That’s like setting off the fire alarm to check whether the battery still works – at six in the morning in the jet-lag zone. Technically correct. Socially devastating.
The Pavlovian Reflex
The community’s reaction was swift. You know the drill: the moment a SOTA spot pops up, radio amateurs fall into a Pavlovian reflex whose intensity is surpassed only by a Labrador’s behaviour when the treat bag rustles. Antenna out. Amplifier on. Logbook ready. CQ SOTA, CQ SOTA – and then you sit there listening to static like a philosopher gazing into the void.
The Aftermath
The ham took it in stride. A brief “Sorry” – that’s all a Carinthian needs. Words are expensive. Especially on 2 metres.
The advice from the group was unequivocal: “Next time, take the Großglockner.” Because if you’re going to spot half the SOTA community out of bed, at least do it with style. From a test location that’s worth a few points. And with enough power that you can actually hear the diving catch.
The ham confirmed with military brevity: “Yes sir.” So we can look forward to what’s next. If a spot from the Großglockner appears soon, we’ll know: it’s either a historic first activation – or our friend is testing again.
Hansl’s Insights of the Day
- A SOTA test spot on the Monday after the clock change is the amateur radio equivalent of a WhatsApp message saying “We need to talk” – at six in the morning, on a day when you’ve already lost an hour of your life.
- The diving catch for the radio should be recognised as an official SOTA discipline. Scoring criteria: distance, form, and whether the coffee survived.
- Test spots: Technically permitted. Morally questionable. Entertaining in any case.
With that in mind: Test your spots, but secure the coffee mugs first.
73 de Hansl Hohlleiter, OE0HHL – licensed to jam since birth
Transparency Notice
This article was researched and written with the assistance of AI (Claude, Anthropic). All content has been reviewed by the oeradio.at editorial team. If you find any errors or would like to suggest additions, we welcome your feedback.
