We visited Starbase in July 2026.

The long drive to Starbase goes through never-ending miles of pale-tan corn and rustic-brown sorghum ready for harvest, vibrant green fields of cotton blooming with white-yellow flowers, along with the live oaks and feathery mesquites, tortured and twisted by heat and wind, keeping watch along the fencelines. The 300-foot-tall utility-scale wind turbines provide a stark contrast to this old agricultural landscape. Along the highway is the new massive transmission line under construction to support the evolving power needs of Starbase: the towers are still lonely, the lines not pulled yet.

The closest place to Starbase where you can stay is Brownsville, now a boomtown - the hotels are all newly constructed. The Highway 4 to Starbase itself is undergoing massive expansion. The food is Tex-Mex and Texas BBQ.

Highway 4 is closed on the launch date, and we trek to Isla Blanca, the southernmost tip of South Padre Island for the 13th Starship launch. The beach is beautiful and crowded, the atmosphere is cheerful and tense with anticipation - people have come from near and far, hours in advance to witness the miracle.

At T-0, 29 of the 33 engines start up, and there is a roar. The sound is that of a supernatural power, an immense power, but also of control, a controlled supernatural power. The crowd goes wild with excitement. Four engines fail to start, the launch scrubs, and the event is over as soon as it had started. The reaction of the crowd is stoic resignation. No one is angry or mad, there is a group shrug: it is what it is, some people keep playing on the beach, others start packing up and leaving. You accept the little blessing you get, and move on.

Highway 4 is open the next day and is crawling with Cybertrucks. Thousands of Cybertrucks are parked in the employee parking lots labeled "CYBERTRUCK PARKING".

The rocket is still standing on the launch pad. It is surreal to be standing so close to it, no barriers holding you back. The chopsticks effortlessly pick up the deity and solemnly move it around the Mechazilla for atonement. The overwhelming feeling is of violating the inner sanctum where only the high priest and disciples should be allowed. A crowd is now building up and everyone is dazed staring at the almighty. A cop car shows up eventually to maintain some dignity.

The Boca Chica beach is still there, forlorn now, miles of pristine sand to drive and walk on.