The highs (and lows) of disassembling my vapor deck

Note: This is not a guide to disassembling your Steam Deck, but rather an example of what not to do. Always use the right tools for the right job, and if you can’t rely on your skills, turn to a professional repairman.

I am a neurotic woman. If something bothers me, it has to be addressed properly. Now. It doesn’t matter if it’s the right time or if I have the resources. So, when my Steam deck’s B button got stuck…well, what was the response? Take the damn thing apart, of course.

The Steam Deck impressed early on not only with impressive gaming performance for something so small, but also with demonstrated by Valve, User-friendly design with modular components. This makes the deck one of the the most hackable and repairable gaming devices currently available. And after finally opening it myself, I’m convinced that any expensive gaming device should be designed to such a high standard of user-friendly repairability.

Disassembly is standard for me

Suspecting that there was a problem with my B key, I searched the internet for answers and was surprised, it’s a common problem. There are some fixes for this issue that don’t require opening the deck, e.g. B. the use fine sandpaper or a small piece of tape. But after reading about this particular B-button issue, which stemmed from a manufacturing oversight in the system’s plastic shell, I was convinced something else was troubling me.

Continue reading: Valve made the Steam deck easy to mod and fix, and it’s starting to pay off

Playing too many hours gloriole LAN parties with gamepads way too close to fast food and bottles of Mountain Dew taught me what that is very specific plugged feeling is. My immediate thought was, “Somebody needs to learn to stop eating at their damn desk while working on Steam deck items.”

This wasn’t my first rodeo. I’ve built PCs, completely disassembled and reassembled laptops, consoles and gamepads. I regularly repair and assemble guitars including soldering electronics, neck fitting and even occasionally fretwork and have done avant garde mods with mirror glass inspired by the work of Ned Evett. I have my success stories as well as failures. I had that. Right?

I almost made a crucial mistake when I broke open the device

I made a deal with myself: I would finish my playthrough of Metallic Storm1991’s rockin’ gravity-reversing shooter NES platformer, then take this thing apart. And I’ve made peace with the knowledge that I could destroy my deck in the process…because I don’t have the right tools for the job.

I the battery drained with The witcher 3, then put the deck into battery storage mode via the BIOS. This will disable the power button and set it to only turn on when the charger is plugged in. The internet states that this is essential before dismantling.

Continue reading: 11+ Great Steam Deck Games That Won’t Drain Your Battery

Disaster struck almost immediately. I unscrewed the eight screws on the back and was ready to pry it open…then discovered my microSD card still in the slot you need remove before opening the case or you will break the card in half.

So I took that out.

I hate prying things up with my nails, but I don’t own any iFixit tools. So I used a resource I have in abundance, on floors, under closets, in random pockets: guitar picks.

I went with my current standard of Dunlop Tortex Flow picks at 0.83mm. As I’ve learned, this is a great way to scratch and chew up the deck’s plastic seams until now it looks like someone was “in there” (it was relic, Thanks very much). I’ve learned that a 0.50mm pick is a bit gentler on the plastic, although it bears repeating: you shouldn’t open your Steam deck like this.

Once opened, I was faced with my nemesis: ribbon cables.

I don’t really know what my problem is with them or what their problem is with me, but ribbon cables scare me.

To get to the buttons I would have to disconnect several ribbon cables, remove two circuit boards, the trigger and the bumper. Also, every YouTube channel told me to remove the shield, disconnect the battery, and probably wear a grounding wrist strap. I decided not to do the last three because I didn’t want to. (Reminder: This is not a guide.)

It all went surprisingly well. But the L2/R2 trigger assembly was tricky. You have to pry it off its plastic hinges with a certain amount of force (a real tip: remove the spring first) for your brain to warn you: Stop it, you’re ruining this.

I stuck electronic tweezers in and pulled. That’s what you call a brilliant damn idea™.

The tweezers slipped out and ripped a scratch across the thumbstick module, nicking a solder joint. But I have a soldering iron; I could fix that. Also, You can purchase Deck Analog Stick Modules separately. And would I stop there? No. That B button needed repairing.

I got through everything else. Finally dug up the buttons under the bumper mechanism and, yes, there was some… dirt on the B button? Damn? Things? A bit of alcohol did the trick and I started assembling.

Assembling the trigger sucks, by the way. I ended up resorting to cutting a stick of abalone guitar binding material to properly indent the spring. I only dropped the quill once, which took only moments to locate with my phone’s flashlight.

Time to assemble…but wait a minute

As I snapped open the case, I grabbed the screws and found I never reconnected those ribbon cables. (See? My ultimate enemy.) So, um, back to prying the deck open with a guitar pick.

After reconnecting the cables, reassembling the shell, and replacing the screws, it was time to plug the power cord back in to see if I had bricked it or broken something.

My steam deck exploded, not with kinetic energy but with joy as it turned on and let me launch gloriole That way I could make sure my damage to the right analog stick solder joint didn’t actually break anything (and I’m pretty confident the scratch could just be melted out anyway).

As I hopped around in delight and slayed Covenant, I realized the deck felt very different in my hands. Not physically, but… emotionally maybe?

After breaking the thing open, seeing what’s actually inside, and actually removing a chunk of parts to get to a forward-facing mechanism, the deck felt less valuable, and I felt more confident in my ability to make this one Thing to keep working throughout its lifetime. It used to be like any other black box of a consumer electronic device, like my phone or my switch. Now? I know firsthand that the deck is a user-serviceable device, so I won’t feel weird opening it up again. Just… maybe next time I’ll buy some real tools.

By the way, my B button is still stuck. But not in that grossly gooey way, just in a clicky, plasticky way that fits the descriptions of what many users deal with. Time to get some sandpaper.