Table of Contents >> Show >> Hide
- What “Supercon” Actually Is (And Why It’s Not Like Other Conferences)
- Tickets: How They Typically Work (And How Not To Miss Out)
- Proposals: Talks, Workshops, and the Art of Getting a “Yes”
- What You’ll Do at Supercon (Besides “Attend Sessions”)
- Logistics: What to Expect in Pasadena
- How to Write a Proposal That Sounds Like You (Not Like a Press Release)
- Why You Should Go Even If You Don’t Speak
- Experience Notes: What a Supercon Weekend Feels Like (500+ Words)
- Conclusion: Tickets Up, Proposals Open, Possibilities Everywhere
Somewhere in Pasadena, a pile of lanyards is sharpening its edges, a badge is quietly plotting to become a handheld computer,
and a volunteer is labeling bins of components with the kind of care usually reserved for museum artifacts. Translation:
it’s that moment of the year againwhen Hackaday Superconference (aka “Supercon”) flips the switch and suddenly
tickets and talk/workshop proposals are out in the world, running around like loose electrons.
If you’ve ever wished a conference felt less like “please enjoy this carpeted ballroom” and more like “welcome to the hacker village,
mind the solder smoke,” Supercon is your people. Hackaday has a long tradition of announcing ticket sales and opening the call for proposals
with the same energy as a countdown launchbecause the event can sell out and the speaker lineup is built straight from the community.
(In at least one year, early-bird tickets went fast enough that the announcement had to be updatedclassic.)
This guide is your practical, slightly cheeky roadmap: what Supercon is, how tickets usually work, how proposals are chosen,
and how to submit something that makes the review team say, “Yes. This. Absolutely this.”
What “Supercon” Actually Is (And Why It’s Not Like Other Conferences)
The Hackaday Superconference is a three-day hardware-focused gathering that blends talks, workshops, hands-on challenges,
and a surprisingly powerful social layerthe hallway track is real, and it has its own gravitational field.
It’s been held in Pasadena, California around late October/early November in recent years, with venues tied to
Supplyframe’s spaces (and nearby community-friendly overflow spots). The vibe is intentionally low-key and community-first:
fewer corporate booths, more “show me what you built and how it broke the first three times.”
The content tends to orbit around electronics, embedded, radio, test gear, open-source hardware, weird sensors,
manufacturing hacks, reverse engineering, and the hard-won lessons that happen between prototype and product.
You’ll also see the badge culture turned up to elevenbecause Supercon badges aren’t just souvenirs; they’re canvases.
Badge culture: the unofficial fourth day
Many conferences hand you a plastic rectangle that opens doors. Supercon hands you something you’ll want to open up.
Past Supercon badges have leaned into serious capabilitiesthink “this could be a dev board,” not “this could be a coaster.”
One Supercon recap even described a badge in a Game Boy-like form factor with an FPGA running a RISC-V core, plus other goodiesan indicator
of how much the badge is treated as a centerpiece, not an afterthought.
More recently, the 2025 event’s “Communicator” badge leaned into real connectivity (including LoRa) and a modern microcontroller platform,
the kind of build that practically begs for add-ons and late-night firmware experiments.
If you like the idea of a conference where “badge hacking area” is a real destination on the map, you’re in the right place.
Tickets: How They Typically Work (And How Not To Miss Out)
When Hackaday says tickets are live, they mean it: this isn’t a “join the waitlist and feel feelings” situation.
Ticket sales usually open months ahead of the event, and there’s often an early-bird tier that moves fast.
In a notable Supercon announcement, early-bird availability was so hot it sold out essentially immediatelyyet there was still a clever escape hatch:
submit a talk and you could still qualify for early-bird pricing even after the early-bird pool vanished.
Practical ticket strategy
- Don’t wait for “later today.” Hardware people love procrastinatingbecause we’re always “just one resistor away.” Ticket releases punish that habit.
- If you’re even thinking about speaking, submit. A proposal is not a marriage proposal. It’s closer to “hey, I have a thing and I can explain it without setting anything on fire.”
- Budget for the full experience. Workshops, badge hacking, and side challenges are where the magic multiplies.
Tickets are commonly sold through mainstream event platforms (so you don’t need a secret handshake), and the official event pages typically
centralize schedule, speakers, and logistics.
Proposals: Talks, Workshops, and the Art of Getting a “Yes”
The phrase “tickets and proposals are live” matters because Supercon doesn’t just book headliners and call it done.
The program is built by the communitymeaning your project, your lesson learned, and your “this shouldn’t have worked, but it did” story
can end up on stage. Hackaday regularly opens separate lanes for talks and workshops, and sets a clear deadline
window for submissions.
Talk vs. workshop: pick the right battlefield
Talks are best when you have a crisp narrative: problem → approach → what worked → what failed → what others can reuse.
Workshops are best when participants will leave with a new skill, a working circuit, or at least a healthy respect for flux.
If your idea is “I can teach you to do X in 90 minutes,” workshop. If it’s “here’s how I fought X for six months,” talk.
What reviewers want (even if nobody says it out loud)
- Specificity. “I’ll talk about IoT” is a fog bank. “How I built a LoRa field sensor that survives rain and my firmware” is a trail map.
- Transferable value. Your audience wants to steal your methods (politely) and apply them to their own builds.
- Failure stories. Hardware fails in public. Own it. A good postmortem is more useful than a victory lap.
- Demonstrability. If you can show itscope capture, photos, PCB rev history, a live demoyour odds get better.
- Right-sized ambition. “I invented a new transistor” is… a lot. “I reversed an odd protocol and wrote tooling” is perfectly Supercon.
Proposal formats that tend to land well
Here are some example angles that fit the Supercon ecosystem without sounding like buzzword soup:
- Badge add-ons and standards: building a Simple Add-On (SAO) that does something unexpectedly useful (or delightfully unnecessary).
- Manufacturing reality checks: what changed between PCB rev A and rev D, and why rev B was cursed.
- Radio and comms builds: LoRa, SDR, antenna experiments, low-power telemetryespecially with measured results.
- Tooling and test hacks: turning cheap gear into better gear, custom fixtures, automated calibration, repeatable measurement workflows.
- Reverse engineering: protocols, hardware teardowns, firmware extractiondone ethically and explained clearly.
- Open-source hardware journeys: licensing choices, documentation wins, community contributions, and the weird parts nobody warns you about.
What You’ll Do at Supercon (Besides “Attend Sessions”)
Supercon is an unusual mix: part conference, part workshop festival, part friendly hardware obstacle course.
You’ll see scheduled talks and formal workshopsbut also recurring community activities like soldering challenges, badge hacking,
and other hands-on mini-events that turn strangers into collaborators.
The SMD challenge and hands-on chaos
Hackaday has featured soldering challenges as a visible part of the culturecompetitive enough to be exciting, friendly enough
that nobody pretends flux is optional. These aren’t just stunts; they’re community bonding plus skill-building, with a side of
“wow, that tiny component is smaller than my patience.”
SAO contests and badge ecosystems
The badge scene extends beyond the official hardware. Hackaday has run (and highlighted) SAO-related contests where creators design
add-ons that plug into the badge ecosystem. It’s a neat feedback loop: the conference badge becomes a platform, the community builds peripherals,
and suddenly your lanyard is carrying an instrument, toy, or art piece that makes people stop and ask questions.
Logistics: What to Expect in Pasadena
Recent Supercons have anchored around Supplyframe’s Pasadena locations, with official pages and community coverage pointing to spaces like
the Supplyframe DesignLab and/or nearby related venues. The point isn’t “convention center scale.” It’s “close enough that you keep bumping into
the same brilliant people until you’re on a first-name basis with their oscilloscope.”
How to plan your time
- Pick one “deep dive” per day. A workshop, a hands-on challenge, or a long technical talksomething you’ll remember.
- Leave room for serendipity. The best conversation might happen in line for coffee while someone debugs a board on their knee.
- Bring the right tools. Minimal kit: USB cables, a small screwdriver set, maybe a soldering iron if you like living dangerously (and legally).
- Document lightly. A few photos and notes beat “I’ll remember this forever” (you won’tyour brain will be full of pinouts).
How to Write a Proposal That Sounds Like You (Not Like a Press Release)
Here’s the trick: Supercon proposals win when they read like a smart human describing a real build to other smart humans.
Not a product pitch. Not a motivational poster. Not “disrupting innovation at the edge.” Just: what you made, why it mattered, what you learned.
A simple, high-conversion proposal outline
- Hook (1–2 sentences): the problem or curiosity that started it.
- What you built: include one or two specific technical anchors (chip, protocol, measurement, constraint).
- What went wrong: the failure that taught the most.
- What the audience will take home: tools, techniques, gotchas, or patterns they can reuse.
- Demo potential: even a short video or photo set can help reviewers imagine it on stage.
If you’re worried your project isn’t “big enough,” relax. The Supercon sweet spot is often the honest middle:
the clever workaround, the elegant jig, the firmware that finally stopped crashing, the teardown that revealed a weird design choice,
the open-source board that became a community magnet.
Why You Should Go Even If You Don’t Speak
Speaking is great, but it’s not the only way to participate. Supercon has a reputation for being community-heavy:
workshops and talks are the skeleton; the badge hacking, challenges, and conversations are the muscle.
Many attendees show up to learn, share a project on a laptop, help someone fix a bug, or meet collaborators for the next thing.
And if you’re the kind of person who reads a conference schedule and thinks, “That’s neat,” but reads “badge hacking area”
and thinks, “I have found my natural habitat,” you’ll probably get your money’s worth before lunch on day one.
Experience Notes: What a Supercon Weekend Feels Like (500+ Words)
Imagine you arrive on Friday with a backpack that’s half chargers and half hope. Registration is quick, and then it happens:
you receive the badge. Not a flimsy plastic cardan actual piece of hardware with heft, ports, and the unmistakable vibe of
“please do something questionable with me.” People around you are already turning it over, pointing at pads, asking what the connector is,
and smiling like they’ve just been handed a tiny invitation to misbehave responsibly.
The first conversations start before you even find a seat. Someone notices your sticker. You notice their lanyard add-on.
A third person overhears you mention a microcontroller and suddenly you’re all comparing notes on power rails and why one regulator
“should have been fine” (famous last words). It’s not forced networkingit’s organic hardware gravity. You’re all there because you like making things
that exist in physical reality, where bugs can’t hide behind a browser refresh.
By mid-day, you wander into a talk that’s more practical than polished, in the best way. The speaker doesn’t pretend everything worked.
They show the prototype that failed, the bodge wires that saved it, and the measurement that proved the fix. The room responds with
the kind of laughter that only happens when everyone has been personally attacked by the same electrical gremlin.
You leave with a mental checklist of things to tryand a renewed respect for “test points everywhere.”
Workshops feel like summer camp for people who know what a datasheet is. You sit down with a small group, and within minutes the table
becomes a landscape of parts, tools, and tiny victories. Someone’s build won’t enumerate over USB; two strangers lean in, diagnose it,
and fix it in under five minutes. The person who was stuck is suddenly helping someone else, because that’s how it goes:
expertise sloshes around the room until everybody’s cup is a little fuller.
Then there’s the badge hacking zonean area that functions like a hardware watering hole. People flash firmware, design quick add-ons,
and share snippets of code like they’re trading recipes. You’ll see a spectrum of effort:
from “I made a tiny LED thing that blinks politely” to “I turned my badge into a synthesizer and now it’s serenading the hallway.”
The best part is that nobody gatekeeps. The person doing advanced RF experiments will happily explain basics.
The person doing basics will still get genuine high-fives, because starting is respected here.
Sometime in the evening, you realize you’ve been talking for an hour with someone you met ten minutes ago.
You’re discussing enclosures, manufacturing shortcuts, or the eternal drama between “beautiful design” and “available parts.”
The conversation drifts into side projects, then into why certain open-source licenses matter, then back to practical tips like
labeling your cables so you don’t lose your mind at 2 a.m. It’s nerdy, yesbut also warm, because building things makes people generous.
By Sunday, you’re tired in the satisfying waylike you spent the weekend learning with your hands as well as your brain.
Your notes app is full of part numbers, weird ideas, and follow-ups you actually want to do. Your badge now has a few new tricks,
or at least a plan for new tricks. You say goodbye to people you genuinely expect to see again, because you’ve already started
collaborating in your head.
That’s the Supercon effect. You don’t just attend. You get pulled into a temporary village where the currency is curiosity,
the social contract is “help when you can,” and the souvenirs are skills, contacts, and a hardware badge that keeps whispering:
“You’re not done with me yet.”
Conclusion: Tickets Up, Proposals Open, Possibilities Everywhere
When Supercon ticket sales and proposals go live, it’s more than an administrative updateit’s the starting bell for a community-built event.
If you want to go, grab a ticket while the best pricing and availability exist. If you want to speak, pitch something specific and real.
And if you’re on the fence, consider this your nudge: Supercon rewards participation, whether that means a talk, a workshop, a badge add-on,
or simply showing up ready to learn and share.
