It looks around
The LiDAR and cameras feed in, and the code stitches them into a picture of what's out there — lanes, cones, curbs, whatever's in the way.
Atlas Autoware is a student team out of Northern Virginia. We started in a basement with a beat-up chassis and a pile of sensors, and we've been teaching it to drive ever since. No professional engineers — just us, after school and most weekends.
We're packing up the car and heading to IV 2026 — one of the biggest intelligent-vehicles events out there. It's a huge step up for a team our size, and we're equal parts thrilled and terrified.
Detroit, Michigan · June 22–25Most of us go to Thomas Jefferson (TJHSST), a few come from other schools nearby. None of us knew how to make a car drive itself when we started. We figured it out the hard way — breaking things, reading papers we barely understood, and staying way too late in the lab. Here's roughly how the car thinks:
The LiDAR and cameras feed in, and the code stitches them into a picture of what's out there — lanes, cones, curbs, whatever's in the way.
Then it works out where to actually go — the smoothest, safest path through the mess in front of it — and keeps re-checking that call constantly.
Last part: turning that plan into real steering, gas, and brakes. This is the bit we spent the most weekends tuning so it doesn't drive like a robot.
A simulator is one thing. A 100-pound car that'll actually drive into a cone if you mess up the math is another. We wanted the real version — the soldering, the dead batteries, the "why is it turning left" debugging at 11pm. That's the stuff you remember.
A single LiDAR costs more than most of our parents would like. Add cameras, a decent GPU, spare parts we keep breaking, and gas money to drive to competitions — it adds up fast. If you can spare anything, it genuinely keeps us running.