When I first heard about split keyboards, I was skeptical. Could abandoning my trusty traditional keyboard really improve my typing experience? After months of research and consideration, I took the plunge with the ZSA Voyager – and what followed was a journey of modification, frustration, learning, and ultimately, satisfaction.

Why I Chose the Voyager

My motivation was simple: I wanted a more ergonomic typing experience. While I didn't have any physical issues with my traditional keyboard, I'd heard compelling arguments about the benefits of split keyboards for reducing strain and improving posture. Why wait for problems to develop when I could be proactive about ergonomics? The ZSA Voyager caught my attention with its reputation for quality and customization options.

The Challenge: Columnar Layout (and Blank Keys)

Nothing could have prepared me for the struggle of adapting to the columnar layout. After decades of typing on staggered keyboards, my muscle memory was completely thrown off. Keys that should have been "right there" were suddenly in completely different positions. Simple words became exercises in concentration, and my typing speed plummeted.

The blank keycaps made this even more challenging – no safety net of glancing down to confirm key positions. It was pure muscle memory or nothing.

The learning curve was steeper than I anticipated, but I was determined to push through.

Going Minimal: The 40-Key Modification

As I got more comfortable with the Voyager, I started questioning whether I really needed all 52 keys. Inspired by the minimalist keyboard community, I decided to experiment with a 40-key layout – removing 12 keys from the original configuration.

This wasn't just about aesthetics; it was about efficiency. With fewer keys, my fingers could stay closer to home row, potentially reducing movement and increasing speed once I adapted.

The Hardware Modifications

The physical transformation required several components:

• Key covers: To fill the holes left by the removed switches and maintain a clean aesthetic
• Choc Sunset Tactile switches: I decided to upgrade the switches while I was modifying the keyboard
• Rubber dampeners: To improve the typing feel and reduce noise
• Labelless keycaps: Because apparently I wanted to make life even harder for myself

The Choc Sunset Tactile switches were a revelation. The tactile feedback is crisp without being overwhelming, and they feel significantly better than the stock switches. And yes, I went with completely blank keycaps – no legends, no hints, just smooth surfaces. If I was going to relearn typing, I figured I might as well go all the way and force myself to develop true muscle memory rather than relying on visual cues.

Layer Strategy: QWERTY + Two

Rather than completely reinventing my typing approach, I stuck with QWERTY as my base layer. However, the reduced key count meant I needed to be strategic about accessing symbols and function keys.

I implemented two additional layers:

• Symbol layer: For punctuation, brackets, and special characters
• Function layer: For F-keys, navigation, and media controls

This three-layer approach struck the right balance between familiarity and efficiency. Programming these layouts was made incredibly straightforward thanks to ZSA's Oryx software – a web-based configurator that lets you visually design your keymap, assign functions to each key, and even customize the RGB lighting colors for different layers. Being able to see exactly which keys would light up in different colors when switching layers was not only functional but genuinely satisfying.

The Practice Regimen

Adapting to this setup required dedicated practice. I incorporated several typing websites into my daily routine:

• Entertrained.app: Gamified typing practice that made the learning process more engaging
• Typ.ing: Clean, straightforward typing tests
• Keybr.com: Adaptive lessons that focus on problem areas

Each site offered something different, and rotating between them prevented practice from becoming monotonous.

The Results

Several months in, I'm genuinely happy with the transformation. My typing accuracy has improved significantly, and my speed is not only back to where it was but actually better in many cases. The ergonomic benefits are real – even though I didn't have issues before, I can feel the difference in hand positioning and natural movement during long typing sessions.

The 40-key layout forces intentionality in every keystroke. While the learning curve was challenging, it ultimately made me more aware of my typing patterns and more efficient in my movements.

Lessons Learned

If you're considering a similar journey, here's what I wish I'd known:

1. Patience is essential: The adaptation period is longer than you think, but the payoff is worth it
2. Practice deliberately: Random typing isn't enough; focused practice on weak areas accelerates improvement
3. Hardware matters: Good switches and thoughtful modifications enhance the entire experience
4. Layers are powerful: Don't underestimate how much functionality you can pack into a minimal layout
5. Blank keycaps are optional masochism: While they force better muscle memory development, they definitely extend the learning curve – choose based on your pain tolerance
6. Passwords become an adventure: Complex passwords with symbols and special characters can be tricky when you're juggling layers and blank keys – consider this for your security workflow

Would I Do It Again?

Absolutely. The ZSA Voyager, especially in its modified 40-key form, has become an extension of my thinking process. The initial frustration has given way to genuine appreciation for a more thoughtful, ergonomic approach to typing.

For anyone on the fence about split keyboards or minimal layouts, my advice is simple: if you're willing to invest the time in learning, the rewards are substantial. Your fingers – and your productivity – will thank you.