You want to go. I get it. There’s something visceral about looking up at that white rock and thinking, "I should be standing there." But honestly, the path to get you to the moon isn't just about big engines or shiny suits. It’s a logistical nightmare wrapped in a budgetary crisis, flavored with some of the most complex physics humans have ever tackled.
Space is hard.
Right now, we are in a weird transitional phase. For decades, the moon was a "been there, done that" relic of the Cold War. Now? It's the wild west. Between NASA’s Artemis program and Elon Musk’s Starship, the hardware to actually get you to the moon is finally sitting on launchpads rather than just existing as CGI renders. But don't pack your bags yet.
The Physics of Leaving Your Couch
If you want to leave Earth, you have to fight gravity. Gravity is a clingy ex. To break free, you need to hit escape velocity, which is roughly 25,000 miles per hour. That requires an insane amount of energy.
The rocket equation is a jerk. It dictates that to carry fuel, you need more fuel. This is why the Saturn V was basically a giant firecracker with a tiny room for three guys at the very top. Most of what you see on the launchpad is just the "getting away" juice. Once you’re in orbit, the challenge shifts. You aren't just going up; you’re going sideways fast enough that you fall toward the Earth but keep missing it.
Then comes the Trans-Lunar Injection. This is the burn that pushes you out of Earth's grip toward the moon’s gravity well. It takes about three days. Three days in a tin can.
Artemis vs. Starship: Who Actually Wins?
NASA is betting on the Space Launch System (SLS). It's traditional. It’s expensive. It’s basically a Frankenstein’s monster of Space Shuttle parts. Each launch costs about $2 billion. If you're looking for a government-funded ride, this is the only bus in town for a while.
Then there’s SpaceX.
📖 Related: Dyson V8 Absolute Explained: Why People Still Buy This "Old" Vacuum in 2026
Starship is a different beast entirely. It’s stainless steel, it’s massive, and it’s designed to be reused like a 747. Elon Musk’s goal is to make the cost to get you to the moon lower than the cost of a high-end apartment in Manhattan. Is it realistic? Maybe. But the engineering hurdles for Starship—like orbital refueling—are things we’ve never done at scale. Imagine two giant thermos flasks trying to dock in the vacuum of space while moving at thousands of miles per hour to swap cryogenic fuel. It’s terrifyingly complex.
Blue Origin is in the mix too. Jeff Bezos has his Blue Moon lander. They recently won a massive contract to be the "second provider" for NASA. This is good for you. Competition drives down prices. Usually.
The Real Cost of a Ticket
Let's talk numbers. Real ones.
- Axiom Space currently charges around $55 million just to go to the International Space Station (ISS).
- Dennis Tito, the first space tourist, paid $20 million back in 2001.
- Yusaku Maezawa, the Japanese billionaire, supposedly paid hundreds of millions for his "dearMoon" mission (which was recently canceled/postponed, showing just how fickle this industry is).
If you want a seat to the lunar surface today, you’d likely need a net worth in the billions. We aren't at the "economy class" stage of the moon yet. We’re still in the "only kings and emperors" stage.
Living Through the Trip Without Dying
The moon wants to kill you. It’s not just the lack of air. It’s the dust.
Lunar regolith is like crushed glass. Because there’s no wind or water to erode the edges, the grains stay sharp. It gets into everything. It eats through seals, ruins zippers, and if you breathe it in, it causes "lunar hay fever." Harrison Schmitt, an Apollo 17 astronaut, actually suffered from this. He breathed in dust brought back into the module and his nose puffed up like a balloon.
Radiation is the other silent killer. Once you leave the Earth’s Van Allen belts, you are exposed to solar flares and cosmic rays. A bad solar storm during your three-day trek could cook your DNA.
👉 See also: Uncle Bob Clean Architecture: Why Your Project Is Probably a Mess (And How to Fix It)
Then there’s the gravity—or lack of it. One-sixth gravity feels great for jumping, but it messes with your fluid levels. Your face gets puffy because your blood doesn't know it’s supposed to stay in your legs. You get "space adaptation syndrome," which is a fancy way of saying you’ll probably puke for the first 24 hours.
Why the Moon is Actually the Goal
Why bother? It’s a dead rock.
Well, it’s not just a rock. It’s a gas station. The lunar south pole has water ice in "permanently shadowed regions." If we can mine that ice, we can split it into hydrogen and oxygen. That’s rocket fuel. If we can make fuel on the moon, the moon becomes the jumping-off point for Mars.
It’s much easier to launch a mission from the moon than from Earth because you don't have that pesky deep gravity well to climb out of.
The Logistics of Actually Getting There
You can't just buy a ticket on Expedia. Here is how the process actually looks if you were to somehow secure a spot on a private mission like those planned by Intuitive Machines or Firefly Aerospace (though they currently focus on payloads, not people).
- Training: You’ll spend at least six months to a year learning how to not break the toilet. Space toilets are complex.
- Centrifuge Work: You need to make sure your heart doesn't stop when you're pulling 3 or 4 Gs during ascent.
- Neutral Buoyancy: You’ll spend hours underwater in a heavy suit to simulate the awkwardness of moving in low gravity.
It’s physically demanding. It’s mentally taxing. And yet, the line is out the door.
Is it Actually Going to Happen for Regular People?
Honestly? Not in the next ten years.
✨ Don't miss: Lake House Computer Password: Why Your Vacation Rental Security is Probably Broken
If you aren't a professional astronaut or a person who owns a social media platform, your chances to get you to the moon in the 2020s are essentially zero. But the 2030s? That's when things get interesting. As Starship matures and if the Artemis Base Camp becomes a reality, we might see "industrial" travelers. Geologists, engineers, maybe even a few very brave journalists.
The goal is a sustainable presence. Not just "flags and footprints" like the 1960s. We want a base. We want a telescope on the far side of the moon that can see the beginning of the universe without Earth's radio interference.
Actionable Steps for the Aspiring Space Traveler
Since you probably can't buy a lunar ticket today, here is how you position yourself for the future of the space economy:
Specialization is your only currency. NASA and private firms aren't looking for "tourists" as much as they are looking for "mission specialists." If you are a world-class roboticist, a specialized surgeon, or an expert in closed-loop ecological systems (growing food in poop, basically), you are a thousand times more likely to get a subsidized seat.
Get your health in order. Spaceflight is hard on the cardiovascular system. Pre-existing conditions that are manageable on Earth can be death sentences in a vacuum. Focus on bone density and heart health now.
Watch the "CLPS" missions. The Commercial Lunar Payload Services program is where the real action is. These are small, private landers going to the moon right now. Follow companies like Astrobotic and Intuitive Machines. When they start succeeding consistently, the "human-rated" versions of their tech won't be far behind.
Invest in the infrastructure, not just the rockets. The companies building the habitats (like Northrop Grumman’s HALO module) or the communications arrays are the ones that will make the moon habitable.
The moon is no longer a dream. It’s a construction site. It’s dusty, it’s dangerous, and it’s incredibly expensive, but the path is finally being paved. Keep your eyes on the South Pole—that’s where the future is being built.