Discoveries in the Physics & Astronomy shop | Science, curiosities, and surprises
What can you do with a large Erlenmeyer flask, a kettle of boiling water, and a bag of balloons? Science, of course!
Get the flask hot with a pour of boiling water first, then pour out. Add a small amount of boiling water – as hot as can be – and quickly seal with a balloon. We’re looking for steam, and lots of it.
Then wait and see what happens!
Astronomy is roughly 98% figuring out how to look at stuff better than our eyes can do it.
Gathering more light with large-aperture lenses and reflectors. Gathering more light with long camera exposures. Using detectors for light outside the visible spectrum, from radio waves to gamma rays. Launching telescopes a million miles into space to get away from our pesky atmosphere. Splitting the broadly blended colors we perceive into their component wavelengths.
That last one’s the easiest to accomplish in a student lab setting, and it’s a broadly useful scientific tool across many disciplines. Turns out that certain particular constraints caused by quantum physics make all sorts of other observations possible. Who knew?
Pictured above is a low-pressure sodium lamp, just like the ones that once illuminated nighttime streets around the world with their flattening orange glow. Looks orange to our eyes, but it’s primarily a mix of red, orange, and yellow wavelengths. If you measure those carefully enough, you can discern a certain “fingerprint” on a spectrum of light that would tell you if sodium is or isn’t present in what you’re observing.
Same applies to hydrogen and helium. Nitrogen and oxygen. Argon and neon. Carbon dioxide. Water. Every atom and molecule – including different ionized states, which is a particularly useful bit of information for astronomers – has its own unique spectrum of light it emits. You just need to look at it in the right way.
Even if it’s millions of light-years distant.
Newton proposed three laws of motion, and it’s the second one that makes for the most interesting labs. Maybe there’s some way to make inertia both fun and educational, but let’s leave the first law for lecture. Equal and opposite reactions are pretty great, but that’s ideal for big demos. Read: rocket launches.
Force, though. Force lets students do stuff and observe what happens. Doing stuff and getting results is how you make physics more interesting.
One tool in our Newton’s-second-law arsenal is the fan cart. An assemblage of a cart with low-friction wheels and a simple DC motor holding a plastic fan. The fan mount pivots, providing variable direction of force. Runs on AA batteries, and is held together mostly with hot glue.
Two very good reasons for the hot glue: 1) When one of these invariably plummets to the floor, the less-than-rigid connections absorb a good deal of the impact when it all falls apart. Usually it falls into pieces, but nothing’s really broken. 2) After one has taken a tumble, it’s mere minutes to get it re-glued and running once more.
The reason for the fan is that it provides a close approximation of constant force, F. If F is constant, and mass (m) is constant, then by F = ma, acceleration (a) is constant, too. Give a running cart a little backwards push – an additional force – and study how its position and velocity change over time. Simple? Sure, and that’s helpful when tying together various concepts.
Relationships between force, mass, and acceleration according to Newton’s second law. Two-dimensional vectors come into play when rotating the fan. Our motion detectors read position, so it’s an illustration of integrals and derivatives underpinning the acceleration, velocity, and position of a moving cart.
The importance of catching a speeding object before it bangs into the end of the track and crashes to the floor.
It’s nearly rocket day! Okay, well, it’s nearly time for a physics lecture on momentum conservation – good ol’ Newtonian mechanics – and nothing livens up a discussion of theory and mathematical modeling like making stuff shoot up into the sky. Or, quite possibly, fail to shoot up into the sky, but we’ve been running some advance tests and prepping backup plans because we really, really want things to go zoom.
Zoom, not boom. It’s much more of a hissing zzziiippp than anything else.
The demonstration usually shows three different rockets in succession, each more impressive than the last. The first one, a soda-bottle water rocket, actually illustrates the principle best. Pressurized water shoots out and down, so the rocket moves up. Mass, velocity, terrible aerodynamics. Occasional light spray, so keep your distance.
Then it’s off to model rocket land, with high-velocity solid fuel instead of water. Less mass but at a much, much higher velocity, and in no time that B-size engine has launched the little cardboard-and-plastic rocket high enough to be a speck that’s hard to discern. As long as the weather isn’t terrible, though, a standard B launch is not only recoverable, but entirely possible to catch before it reaches the ground, drifting lazily beneath its parachute.
Scaling on up to a C-size engine, we’ll have our final launch. Bigger engine, more momentum, and even the slightest breeze ensures it’ll drift far beyond our sight and ability to track. Anyone so lucky as to find the rocket afterward can keep it.
If it’s you, maybe stop on by and let us know?