“Anything to See and Do Around Here?” – Asked From the Place They Already Drove To

I saw another beauty in a local Facebook group recently.

A couple posted from Chutes Provincial Park asking: “Anything to see and do in the area?”

Now, under normal circumstances, that’s a fair question. If you’re planning a trip somewhere six months from now, by all means ask locals for hidden gems, good diners, scenic lookouts, or places tourists usually miss.

But these people were already there. Not “thinking about going there.” Not “heading there next month.” They were already there, telling everyone they had just arrived. 

At that point, I have questions of my own.

Did you not notice the giant rapids signs? The hiking trail maps? The fishing access signs? The scenic route signs? The ice cream shops? The chip trucks? The gift stores selling moose magnets and fudge every three miles?

How do you drive into a provincial park and then immediately ask the internet what exists around you?

Part of the fun of road trips used to be discovering things yourself. You’d pull over because a sign said “Scenic Lookout.” You’d stop at a rustic diner because the parking lot was full of pickup trucks. You’d wander into a small-town museum because it looked interesting – or gloriously terrible.

Sometimes you found hidden gems. Sometimes you found a taxidermy display that hasn’t been updated since 1987.

That was the adventure. Now it feels like some people refuse to experience anything unless it’s pre-approved by strangers online.

You can almost picture them sitting at the campsite: “Okay, we’ve arrived.” “Great. What do we do now?” “I don’t know. Ask Facebook.”

Meanwhile, nature and 94 things to do are right near them.   

And the replies are always predictable.

“Definitely check out the falls.” Yes. The falls are located in the park they are currently camping in.

“Lots of nice hiking trails.” You don’t say. At a provincial park in Northern Ontario?

Then come the ultra-detailed local responses: “You should drive 42 minutes northeast to a tiny bakery that closes at 4:13 p.m. on alternate Saturdays but only if Linda’s working because the cinnamon buns aren’t the same when Trevor makes them.”

Local Facebook groups are incredible for this stuff.

To be fair, I understand wanting recommendations. Hidden beaches, several lakes no one’s ever fished in, little-known restaurants, scenic back roads – that’s useful information. Locals often know the best stuff.

But there’s something mildly depressing about people arriving in beautiful places and immediately looking down at their phones rather than looking around them.

You’re camping beside forests, rivers, cliffs, waterfalls, wildlife, and plenty of fresh air. Maybe start there. Walk around. Get lost for an hour. Take the road with the interesting sign.

Worst case? You waste an hour and end up back at camp with a story.

Best case? You discover something memorable without needing a committee of Facebook strangers to authorize the experience first.

And honestly, if you can’t find anything to do at a provincial park after driving past 73 tourism signs to get there, I’m not sure the internet can save you.