Constructing motorsport grade wiring harnesses
rbracing-rsr.comThank you for posting this article. I'm in charge of the electronics package of a Formula SAE team, and our wiring harnesses follow many of the practices found in this guide. I personally have been astounded by the fact that many of the assumptions we make with hobbyist-grade electronics go out the window when designing for motorsports. You can expect to find that at some point, water/fuel/oil/brake fluid will fall on your wiring. Seemingly sturdy connections will only misbehave under specific conditions such as high-speed cornering, making them difficult to debug.
Another thing I've also found shocking is how quickly the expenses can rack up. The Deutsch Autosport connectors listed in the article almost universally start at around $30-40 per connector. Heatshrink products are also very pricey, with the additional downside that if you make a mistake in the manufacturing process there is no way to re-use them once they've been cut off.
I'm happy to do so!
I also heavily participated in Formula SAE. Don't get too distracted by the Auto sport connectors. They are top-tier hardware, but use Deutsch DT/DTM connectors for everything. They work quite well if you're on a budget, but still want very high quality interconnects.Our team used DTM connectors for a while, before eventually migrating to Autosports.
Glad to see an FSAE alum on HN :)
I just wished that the DT series of connectors included some denser connectors with smaller pins. We use 13 pin/socket autosport connectors all over the vehicle just because the equivalent DTM connector takes up much more room.
Wow. that's an amazing resource.
Also NASA has some good resource, a couple i have links to:
Workmanship Standard for Crimping, Interconnecting... https://nepp.nasa.gov/files/27631/NSTD87394A.pdf
CABLE AND HARNESS SPLICES https://workmanship.nasa.gov/lib/insp/2%20books/links/sectio...
In Eudoxia, which spreads both upward and down, with winding alleys, steps, dead ends, hovels, a carpet is preserved in which you can observe the city’s true form. At first sight nothing seems to resemble Eudoxia less than the design of that carpet, laid out in symmetrical motives whose patterns are repeated along straight and circular lines, interwoven with brilliantly colored spires, in a repetition that can be followed throughout the whole woof. But if you pause and examine it carefully, you become convinced that each place in the carpet corresponds to a place in the city and all the things contained in the city are included in the design, arranged according to their true relationship, which escapes your eye distracted by the bustle, the throngs, the shoving. All of Eudoxia’s confusion, the mules’ braying, the lampblack stains, the fish smell is what is evident in the incomplete perspective you grasp; but the carpet proves that there is a point from which the city shows its true proportions, the geometrical scheme implicit in its every, tiniest detail.
It is easy to get lost in Eudoxia: but when you concentrate and stare at the carpet, you recognize the street you were seeking in a crimson or indigo or magenta thread which, in a wide loop, brings you to the purple enclosure that is your real destination. Every inhabitant of Eudoxia compares the carpet’s immobile order with his own image of the city, an anguish of his own, and each can find, concealed among the arabesques, an answer, the story of his life, the twists of fate.
An oracle was questioned about the mysterious bond between two objects so dissimilar as the carpet and the city. One of the two objects—-the oracle replied—-has the form the gods gave the starry sky and the orbits in which the worlds revolve; the other is an approximate reflection, like every human creation.
For some time the augurs had been sure that the carpet’s harmonious pattern was of divine origin. The oracle was interpreted in this sense, arousing no controversy. But you could, similarly, come to the opposite conclusion: that the true map of the universe is the city of Eudoxia, just as it is, a stain that spreads out shapelessly, with crooked streets, houses that crumble one upon the other amid clouds of dust, fires, screams in the darkness.
- Invisible Cities, Italo Calvino, 1972