Firelight
We spent an evening at the ranch with the instructors from Semicon Desert’s first challenge — the same group that had just carried two intense weeks of work on their shoulders.
What stood out wasn’t the workload. It was the way they showed up. Clear-eyed. Curious. Talking about the craft as if it were a path worth committing to, not just a task to complete.
They compared notes. Shared what surprised them. Traded ideas on how to push the next round further. No competition. No posturing. Just people serious about getting better together.
It reminded me of the early software meetups in Hermosillo years ago. Small rooms. Big hunger. Those gatherings didn’t look special at the time — but they ended up shaping a generation.
Chip design has the same feel, only with steeper ground. It’s not something you learn in isolation. It’s passed along. One person’s hard-earned intuition becoming someone else’s starting point.
That’s what made the night matter. Not the setting or the food —
but the sense that a community is forming around a craft that demands this kind of closeness.
In the firelight, you could see the beginning of something that grows quietly at first… and then suddenly changes what a place is capable of.
