APEX -- Long before smart phones, Facebook, satellites, even television, radio communication ruled the world.
On Saturday, the radio briefly ruled again as the Raleigh Amateur Radio Society took over a former pasture in Apex. Several dozen radio amateurs - commonly known as "hams" - set up overnight camps for an annual contest to contact as many other hams in North America as possible in 24 hours.
Amateur radios are largely a hobby today, but the subtext of the weekend event was to one-up the telephone, the Internet and the iPhone 4G with a self-sufficient technology that doesn't depend on a network of towers, cables and satellites.
Ham radios, backed up by diesel generators, can still come in handy. They could be the only link with the outside world after a hurricane, terrorist attack or some other disaster knocks out power and communications.
"It amazes me that I can take a little board with four or five transistors and talk to the other side of the world," said Justin Pinnix, the group's vice president.
Several hundred ham radio clubs across the country are out this weekend rotating dials, squelching static, exchanging call letters, logging contacts and quickly moving on to the next call.
The Raleigh group, with 275 members, is the state's largest and expected more than 50 people to participate in the two-day challenge.
The continuing appeal
Many of these guys are engineers in the telecommunications and software fields but are still entranced by the primitive technology that peaked when they were just whippersnappers.
Gary Pearce, better known as KN4AQ, got his amateur radio license at 15 in 1965. Today he has $10,000 worth of equipment in his Toyota SUV, including eight radios on different frequencies and eight antennas.
But looking around at the sea of gray heads Saturday, it wasn't hard to see that the golden age of the ham radio is over. Group members talk about their aging fan base and complain that suburbanization has led to homeowner covenants that prohibit the 2- and 3-story antennas that ham radios need.
Listen to a ham radio hiss, wheeze, crackle and whine, and you're transported back to the era of boxy World War II-era field radios.
"Hello, CQ CQ field day," Andy Peterson's voice intoned across the radio spectrum, using the short hand for "seek you." "Whiskey 4 Delta Whiskey."
Peterson was broadcasting the Raleigh club's call sign, W4DW. His words were prerecorded and activated each time Peterson pushed a button. Several times a minute the call letters went out over the air until someone acknowledged his call.
As Peterson worked the dial, disembodied voices drifted in and out of a small speaker through the static and over the drone of diesel generators.
Peterson repeatedly tried to find hams to acknowledge his call letters - and state theirs clearly enough so he could log them.
"Let me make sure I got the call signal right," Peterson said in one exchange. "Kilo India 5? Is that correct?" After a garbled reply, he asked, "The suffix is Fox Rodeo?"
"It's Foxtrot Rodeo," replied KI5FR from North Florida.
Connection accomplished. Peterson's thumb reflexively squeezed the lever. "Hello, CQ CQ field day. Whiskey 4 Delta Whiskey."
