Rechargeable batteries: how to use them

It is obvious that rechargeable batteries are used to reduce pollution. Moreover, they are effective and the best choice to make.

The poor performance of rechargeable batteries in the past was often the weakness of these batteries. Today, currently about one in ten issues are put on the account of the battery, nine times out of ten are of the device that uses or charger.

If the technique becomes fragile: they do not accept deep discharge below 0.9 volts or overloading above 1.5 volt otherwise their life will be reduced. We need the devices using the proper manner and chargers are well adapted.

Devices that can use rechargeable batteries. In theory, of course, all devices that use micro batteries 1.5 volt or 9-volt rectangular batteries can be used instead of rechargeable batteries. But in practice, it is not necessary that the device can leave the battery discharging deeply, below 0.9 volts per cell.

Cases that equipment can affect the quality of the batteries:

– In general the “classic” battery devices are rarely designed to use rechargeable batteries, the main problem is that they may discharge the battery too deeply. Therefore, we do not necessarily reached full life of the battery (which is normally 500 charges and discharges!) Despite, all the results are quite correct in general.

– In flashlights that use incandescent bulbs, it’s even worse because if the electronics stop working below a certain voltage, there is no security with stop below a given voltage for the bulbs, unless manually turn off when the light fades a little.

– The devices, even electronic using more than two batteries are not properly handling the individual discharge batteries.

When there are more than two batteries in series, even if the device has a safety by stopping below a certain voltage, because the device measures the total voltage, it may be that some of the batteries are charged and some others are already below the threshold.

Situation that the charger may compromise the quality of the batteries:

We find in supermarkets very few suitable chargers. Yet a good charger is not necessarily expensive. The charger may compromise the quality of the batteries

If charging two batteries in series, indeed since both batteries are never perfectly identical, ultimately they will not be charged equally and the least charged battery runs more risk of deep discharge during use. The end of charge detection is also more difficult to load and therefore, less accurate.

It is essential to use a charger that separates each load cell. In general, it shows because there is a light above each cell. But sometimes it can mislead because there are two LEDs with different functions: loaded or unloaded.
This is also seen as the LED will light up as soon as you insert one battery in the charger. Some chargers (like Sony) have only one indicator but have a separate battery circuit. Conversely, there are unbranded chargers that have a battery indicator but only one load circuit, so the load is very basic, not recommended.

Rechargeable batteries for toys

For toys that use a lot of batteries in series, such as remote control cars in 12 volts, which operate with 8 1.5v batteries in series, we can replace them with 3 Li-ion battery 3.7V in series, or replace 6 1.5v batteries with 2 3.6v battery 3.7V lithium ion. A little calculation shows us that we have the same voltage as if we used Ni-Mh batteries of 1.2 volt. Indeed, 6 1.2V batteries provide 7.2 v; 2 3.7V batteries provide 7.4 volts and the car works perfectly because it is designed to operate with either 1.5 V batteries with either 1.2V batteries. Toys like many electrical appliances have much margin of operation.

If you want to use the same box of R6 we will be forced to use models of 14500 that have a capacity of 900mAH in the best case. As against the big advantage is that the batteries will not be damaged during discharge they will cut automatically, provided the use of x “protected” to prevent deep discharge. The free slots will be replaced by conductive cylinders for carrying current or bridged by a wire which will carry the current through the free spaces. At the level of lithium ion, rare to be authentic are Trusfire with a small flame, in this version of best 18650 battery is only of 2400 mAh.

 

 

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Extreme Survival Skills

Our writer thought backcountry skiing and staying in a yurt required extreme survival skills. Then she tried the outdoor hot tub.

As far as I was concerned, I was making my fiance a pretty good offer: two days of backcountry skiing in the mountains around Sun Valley, Idaho. We’d be trekking though the wilderness. We’d be staying in a yurt. We’d have a guide to help us with the odd avalanche or predatory encounter. It would be fun. Did I know what backcountry skiing entailed? Well, no. Did I have a clue as to what a yurt was? Negative.

“What about mountain lions?” John asked nervously, opening himself to a merciless barrage of teasing. “Are we going to have to spend the whole weekend surviving on Slim Jims and Gatorade?” Details, details. The point was, it would be an adventure.

The two of us are born-and-bred Manhattanites, and though it would make this story neater somehow if I were a slave to my Manolo Blahniks and he were a bookish Woody Allen type, in fact, we’re both by city-slicker standards. We hike (a little). We ski a Leatherman, for Pete’s sake, and where we come enough to qualify us for the next high-profile Everest,

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Telemark Skiing

At the top of the ridge, Street gave us our first lesson in telemark skiing. The technique evolved last century from the stable body position of the ski jump landing, with the knees bent in a kind of prayer posture. As afraid as he was of mountain lions and processed meat sticks, John managed to pick up the swoopy kneel of telemarking with maddening ease. A word or two from Street, and he was off, pressing his shins into the front of his leading boot and lunging down the hill, his trail a drunken wiggle of tracks through the snow. I, on the other hand, quickly came to understand that my talents lay in slaloming through the rush hour crowds in Times Square, not down an expanse of virgin powder. But who cares? I had fun falling, getting up, inching forward, and falling again until I made it back down to camp. Of course, I did have to stop occasionally to ooh and ahh at the clean tracks that my irritatingly proficient mate had made on his descent, but such are the politics of relationships in the wild.

Evening would bring many delights, but none approached the pleasure of the long-awaited hot tub soak. Of course, traipsing through the frigid night in nothing but underwear and a pair of slippers is a drag–the reasoning behind such attire being that the less you have on, the less you will have to take off. Once we slid into the hot water, it was pure crunchy-granola, tree-hugger bliss. With the moon shining bright above us and stars everywhere in the blue-black sky, we found it easy to forget that we normally live a life full of traffic jams and apartment envy. There, for a moment, as we poached like eggs in the middle of a silent, snow-laden forest, we were at peace. And for urbanites like us, that was about as extreme an experience as we could handle.

YURTS so GOOD

Spend the night under the big top.

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Sun Valley Trekking

Unwilling to concede that this wilderness weekend was going to be such a breeze, I tackled Sun Valley Trekking’s “Hut Renter Checklist.” A few of the more technical-sounding items–wind pant shell, neck gaiter, pocket knife-had the frisson of outdoor adventure about them, but there was little on the list I didn’t already own for survival on the streets of the Upper West Side.

Thank goodness, then, for the blizzard that hit Idaho just as our flight was due to arrive in Sun Valley. As the plane shook and we heard reports of zero visibility on the runway, John and I were finally able to indulge the fantasy that we were engaged in thrill-seeker travel. At 2 A.M., when we at last caught sight of our rental car–a reassuringly macho GMC Yukon–peeking out from the snowdrifts of the airport parking lot, our status as weekend wilderness warriors was confirmed. Dusting the windshield clear of snow, we prayed we’d make it down the four-lane highway to our luxury hotel alive.

dump your duffel in the back of the van there,” said Sarah Michael, Jonas’s partner, the next morning, when we pulled our Yukon into the lot of Backwoods Mountain Sports. We rented all our equipment–Scarpa T3 telemark boots, Tua skis with purple synthetic climbing skins affixed to the bottoms and a pair of Black Diamond poles–then joined our fellow skiers for the short trek to the Boulder yurts. Our group was a motley crew: a perky Sun Valley native in her 70s, a former New Yorker who had moved into the area to pursue her passion for figure skating, a couple of recent college grads, and us. No one was an expert skier, but with our day packs jammed with cameras, sun stuff and bottles of water, our ski sled piled high with luggage and our anoraks zipped just so, we looked like we were preparing to ascend K2. The effect was satisfying indeed.

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Brilliantly Eccentric Guide

Penelope Street, our brilliantly eccentric guide, told me later that such stop-and-go maneuvers are the mark of anxious city people; real backcountry skiers take it slow and steady, never allowing themselves to overheat and risk catching a chill later in the day. A tall, beautiful redhead (not related to Picabo), Street spent most of her young adult life in the 1970s as a freestyle skiing champion. A self-taught expert on everything from neurolinguistic programming to gardening to the best method for peeing in the snow, she kept our group in check by hitching each of us to the sled for a sobering mm hauling the load.

An hour later, we huffed within view of the yurts–two round Mongolian-style tents made out of wood, canvas and latticework laid over colorful floral material. Each structure housed up to eight people in wooden bunks arranged around the perimeter. In the center, near a roaring woodstove, stood a table bearing a delicious olive salad, guacamole, hummus, bread, chips, instant hot cider, herbal tea and a mountain of chocolate chip cookies, all of which had been laid out by Sun Valley Trekking staff members who had gotten to camp before us. Not a Slim Jim in sight.

We polished off the meal in no time, but before devoting the afternoon to skiing up and down the ridge that towered over our yurts, we had a job to do. If we wanted to take turns soaking in the outdoor hot tub later that night–by this point, John and I had fully accepted the surprisingly sybaritic pleasures of backcountry skiing-we needed to fill the cauldron with 78 buckets of icy water from the nearby creek. Forming a line, we passed sloshing vessels back and forth for the better part of an hour. It would be another eight hours before the fire under the tub heated the water enough for any of us to withstand the 15-degree nighttime temperatures for a blissful soak under the stars. God, we were tough.

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