Star Trek: My Experience
Beam Me Up, Vegas! My Glorious Adventures at Star Trek: The Experience
Ah, Star Trek: The Experience—where I spent many a glorious hour dodging Klingons, evading the Borg, and ordering Warp Core Breaches like it was my full-time job. Set inside the Las Vegas Hilton (now the Westgate), this sci-fi mecca was my personal holodeck of joy, and I’d like to think I left an impression on it as much as it did on me.
For those of you who never had the pleasure of being whisked away into the 24th century, let me break it down for you. Star Trek: The Experience wasn’t just some cardboard cutout attraction with a few dusty props. No, this was a fully immersive trek (pun intended) into the final frontier, complete with costumed cast members who took their roles way too seriously—and I loved them for it. Where else could you sip Romulan Ale while debating intergalactic politics with a grumpy Klingon? Where else could you be minding your own business, only to have a Borg drone creep up behind you, declare your resistance futile, and nearly make you spill your overpriced neon-blue beverage? Nowhere, that’s where.
I was fortunate enough to visit many times while Star Trek: Enterprise was still airing, and let me tell you, it was the golden age of geekdom. The centerpiece attractions—Klingon Encounter and Borg Invasion 4-D—were enough to make any Trekkie’s heart go warp speed.
Klingon Encounter started off as a normal simulator ride until—BAM!—you were "accidentally" transported onto the USS Enterprise-D. One moment, you’re waiting in line in some dimly lit holding area, and the next, you’re standing on an eerily accurate recreation of the ship’s transporter pad. Starfleet officers would then rush in, eyes filled with urgency, informing us that someone in our group was the long-lost ancestor of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. I never admitted it out loud, but deep down, I was pretty sure it was me.
From there, it was a whirlwind of phasers, Klingon conspiracies, and the kind of storytelling that made you feel like you actually had a role in saving the galaxy. And just when you thought the excitement was over, you'd hop into a shuttlecraft ride, dodging disruptor fire, hurtling through space, and somehow miraculously crash-landing back in modern-day Las Vegas. The government, as always, had a convenient cover-up: weather balloons. Sure.
Then there was Borg Invasion 4-D, added in 2004, where guests got to experience the true terror of being assimilated—without any of the nasty cybernetic implants. If you ever wanted to know what it felt like to be menaced by the Borg Queen while dodging needle-wielding drones in high-definition 3D, this was your ride. It had jump scares. It had special effects. It had actors who, I can only assume, enjoyed scaring the warp cores out of us. I screamed. I laughed. I maybe spilled another drink.
Speaking of drinks—Quark’s Bar. If heaven exists, I imagine it looks something like this interstellar watering hole. I still dream of the Warp Core Breach, a massive, glowing cocktail served in a smoking bowl big enough to drown a Tribble in. If Starfleet had an official beverage, this was it. And let's not forget the food—because nothing says “alien fine dining” like stabbing a plate of Gagh (aka cleverly disguised cold noodles) while a Ferengi offers you investment tips.
But, as all good things must end, Star Trek: The Experience closed in 2008. There was hope for a revival in 2009, but like a shuttlecraft caught in a time rift, the plans fizzled out, and by 2011, the dream was officially dead. The Neonopolis mall was not, as it turned out, the place to house such greatness.
To this day, I long for the transporter beams, the theatrical absurdity, and yes, the Warp Core Breach. If I ever stumble upon a temporal anomaly leading back to the early 2000s, you can bet I’ll beeline straight for the Hilton, credit card in hand, ready to save the galaxy one last time. Until then, I’ll raise a glass of synthehol to the most immersive, ridiculous, and utterly unforgettable attraction ever to grace the Vegas strip.
Live long and gamble, gang…
