PSU Magazine Spring 2006

T he surprise package arrived at Port– land State on October 17, 2005: the lost payload from a balloon launch three months before. Ranchers David and Janette Roth stumbled on the compact cargo before the winter snows had a chance to bury it for perhaps another half a year. lt was in amazingly good shape for hav– ing fallen from the fringes of space. On it was written a return address and an offer for a small reward to the person who recovered the package. The money wasn't much, but returning it seemed the right thing to do, so the Roths packed it up (they had to break an antenna to get it in the box) , sent it off at the tiny Christmas Valley post office, and returned to their lives. For the recipients-Mark Weislogel, associate professor of mechanical engi– neering, and his students-receiving the package was an unexpected thrill. The payload, which they had given up 12 PSU MAGAZINE SPRING 2006 for lost, included a digital camera, complete with 200 stunning images– all flawlessly intact. Taken from more than 20 miles up , they showed the curvature of the Earth, with a band of deep blue separating the warm sum– mer daylight of Central Oregon from the freezing blackness of space. The Three Sisters, Mount Bachelor, and Broken Top show up as a tight cluster of white specks. T hrills, disappointments, victories, defeats-they're all a way of life for Weislogel and his select crew of engineering students who take pan in Launch PSU, a NASA-sponsored program in which students send helium-filled balloons and their high– tech payloads out of the atmosphere. ln the two years they've been doing this, the group has performed three high-altitude launches in Central Oregon, as well as a handful of small demonstrations at county fairs The view from 20 miles up: Central Oregon, including Mount Bachelor, the Three Sisters, and Broken Top. where they've elevated dogs and chickens. "We're kind of weird over here. lf we get interested in something, we do it," says Weislogel. The program is so popular that Weislogel is forced to turn students away. Pan of it is the sheer geek factor. lf you're into ham radio operation, electronics, global positioning systems, and the challenge of designing com– plex electronics that can fit in a space the size of an Altoid tin, this is the place to be. The other part is that it's just plain fun: the camaraderie, the all– nighters , the adventure of four-wheel– ing across the desert to chase down your returning cargo. "When I was in school, this was my favorite kind of class," Weislogel says. Portland State's group established such a good reputation for being able to launch balloons that Oregon State University enlisted its help and the