POTA on the Move: A Multi-Park Activation Diary

The POTA Paradox: Trading the Picnic Table for the Sprint

I have a love-hate relationship with POTA runs. My "default" mode is the classic slow burn: find a scenic park with a solid picnic table, spread out across an open lawn, and spend the afternoon experimenting. I’ll swap antennas, cycle through bands, and just enjoy the airwaves. But there’s a different kind of pull in a POTA run. It’s less sedentary and more adventurous—a chance to visit places I've never been.

Of course, the "run" has its downsides. You’re often forced to be a bit more ruthless—hitting your ten contacts as fast as the bands allow and then pulling the plug, sometimes leaving hunters hanging while you race to the next park. It’s all about efficiency: high power, the "best" band, and zero wasted motion.

With the Michigan cold still hanging on and a limited window this past Saturday, I decided to lean into the sprint. But as soon as the tires hit the gravel, I realized just how much planning goes into a successful multi-park day.

The Strategy: Green Flags and Black Xs

For me, the mission starts with "New Ones." I use onX Backcountry to track my progress. A while back, I managed to export all park locations in Michigan into the app. My system is simple: every unactivated park is marked with a black X. Once I successfully activate it, that icon turns into a green flag.

Scanning my map, I found a cluster of 11 "black X" parks, with the furthest sitting about two hours from home. My strategy was to drive to the furthest point and work my way back toward the house. I knew hitting all 11 was a pipe dream, but in a POTA run, "thinking time" is "wasted time." You don't want to be sitting in your driver's seat, wondering where to go next while the sun is going down.

To keep the momentum, I pre-planned a "cheat sheet" containing the park number, name, coordinates, and grid square for every target, which I then emailed to myself. This way, the moment the 10th contact is logged, I can copy-paste the next GPS coordinate into Google Maps and keep the wheels turning.

  

The Tactical Clipboard: Maps, Paper, and Contingencies

One thing I’ve learned from previous runs is that while GPS coordinates get you in the ballpark, they don't always get you to the "shack." Finding a legitimate parking spot in a State Game Area—where signs are either tiny or non-existent—can be a real challenge.

Thankfully, the State of Michigan is excellent about providing maps for these areas. I made sure to print a physical copy for all eleven target parks, labeling each one clearly. These maps live on my clipboard, which doubles as my "failsafe" station; it’s loaded with paper logging sheets just in case the digital logging on my phone decides to go offline.

With the maps stacked in the exact order of my route, the clipboard sits right on the passenger seat—my "co-pilot" for the day. When I pull out of one park, I don’t have to fuddle with files; I just flip the page and I’m already looking at the terrain for the next one.

The Power Plant: 100 Watts on the Go

Now for the gear—starting with the absolute essentials. Since my radio of choice is the Yaesu FT-891, I need a power source that can keep up with its 100-watt capabilities if needed. To handle the draw, I brought along the custom battery box I built years ago; it’s a rugged, proven piece of kit that ensures I have ample battery power to play radio all day. 

 

Redundancy in the Field: Preparing for the Overhead Obstacle

Gear prep continued with the heavy lifting: loading the truck with a drive-on mast holder, my 40-foot Spiderbeam mast, and a custom PVC antenna holder. When you're operating two hours from home, redundancy isn't just a luxury—it’s a necessity. Among the backups was my Wolf River Coil (pictured below), a versatile performer that often graduates from "plan B" to center stage. This usually happens because the planners of Michigan’s State Game Lands seem to have one specific criterion for placing parking lots: proximity to power lines. Time and again, I pull into a remote dirt lot only to find high-voltage lines looming overhead. Of course, that isn't true, but boy, does it happen often. In a cramped space, a 40-foot carbon fiber mast and power lines are a lethal combination, making the compact Wolf River Coil the undisputed hero of the day.

The final essentials to be packed are the primary antenna—a Chameleon CHA 10-40 LEFS—along with my paddle, a Bluetooth keyboard, and a common-mode choke for the feed point. Following these is a backpack full of "just in case" gear. This redundant kit is my insurance policy for when things go south; it houses an Icom IC-705 with its full suite of accessories, a QRP tuner, a spare paddle, and a backup battery ready to be swapped into the main power box. To round out the kit, I’ve included a third antenna option: a PackTenna 40M EFHW, complete with its own throw line and bag.

Efficiency in the Field: The Mobile Shack in Motion

Upon arriving at the first park, the routine is a well-oiled machine: I drive the truck onto the mast holder and transform the backseat into a functional workstation. Once the antenna and coax are strung out and the mast is hoisted high, it’s time to find a clear frequency, spot myself, and start calling CQ. When the logs are full and the park is complete, the teardown is just as swift—the mast, antenna, and holder are packed into the truck bed, while the radio gear remains staged and ready in the cab for the next stop. The image of the truck and mast below, though from a previous activation, captures the exact setup used for every park on this Saturday’s circuit.

Highs, Lows, and High Voltage: A Five-Park Circuit

So, how did it go? As I pulled into the first park, the propagation report was grim—not just "poor," but "ugh" poor. After wasting time chasing silence on 15 and 17 meters, I pivoted to 40 meters, remembering it can sometimes be a morning powerhouse. By 8:10 AM, I was finally chipping away. It wasn't fast—it took 50 minutes to land those first 10 contacts—but by 9:00 AM, I was rolling.

At the second park, the Radio Gods decided to tease me with efficiency. After a 10-minute setup, I cleared the activation on 40 meters in a lightning-fast 9 minutes. I was back on the road before the seat had cooled.

The third park brought me back down to earth. I spent 37 minutes fighting for every contact. Between a station sitting right on my frequency and a local noise floor that grew progressively louder, it was a battle. I eventually jumped frequencies twice, finally finding clear air to finish my last seven contacts in 16 minutes.

Then came the "train wreck" at park four. The lot was tiny and—you guessed it—strung with power lines. Erring on the side of caution, I only hoisted the mast to 20 feet, which definitely throttled my signal. Between the low antenna and a local contest on the airwaves, I had to get creative, alternating between POTA calls and hunting contesters to fill the log. It only took 32 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Good riddance, Park 4.

Fortunately, the day ended on a high note at Mike Levine Lakelands Trail State Park (US-1513). The horse-friendly trail offers expansive lots with great amenities. I switched to 20 meters and, just 19 minutes later, I had my 10th contact in the books—including a surprise DX call from the Azores!

The previous four parks were:

US-6704 Hillcrest State Game Land

US-3384 Brighton State Recreation Area

US-3315 Island Lake State Recreation Area

US-1518 Maybury State Park

Overall, it was a highly successful day and one I thoroughly enjoyed. I have a deep appreciation for the "hunters" out there; I make it a point to hunt from home as often as possible because I know exactly how much it improves the experience when a seeker finally hears a reply on the other end. Whether you're behind the mast or the desk, it’s those successful contacts that keep this hobby thriving.

73, and thanks for reading!