Tourism Conferences vs. Tourism Reality
It’s conference season. Which means thousands of tourism professionals are currently gathered in carpeted hotel ballrooms across the country…
Field Notes
Sooo, pretty sure there wasn't a secret airline meeting where somebody stood up and said, "What if we accidentally make people nostalgic for roadside attractions?" Somewhere between baggage fees, seat fees,…
Sooo, pretty sure there wasn't a secret airline meeting where somebody stood up and said, "What if we accidentally make people nostalgic for roadside attractions?"
Somewhere between baggage fees, seat fees, parking fees, and the increasingly spiritual experience of trying to board an airplane in America, a lot of travelers are making a different choice.
They got in the car.
What caught my attention wasn't the road trip statistic itself. Americans have always loved road trips. Give us a tank of gas, snacks that would horrify a nutritionist, and an open highway, and we'll convince ourselves we're starring in a movie.
If there is one thing Americans have not been short on lately, it's stimulation.
News alerts, push notifications, AI, social media, streaming platforms, podcasts, newsletters, group texts, political chaos, economic uncertainty, and approximately six million people trying to become influencers.
Yet somehow, the thing people are craving is a walkable Main Street and a diner that serves pie.
Back to the basics or a psychological pull to an America we've ignored too long?
The star was always the fly market.
The international visitor.
The conference attendee.
The traveler who required a dashboard, a forecast, and seventeen PowerPoint slides.
Meanwhile, the family from three states over quietly filled hotel rooms, bought gas, ate at local restaurants, visited attractions, and came back next year.
The road tripper has always been doing a lot of heavy lifting.
We just haven't treated them like it.
What's different this year is that they're not filling gaps.
They're keeping a bleeding industry alive.
They're not one market.
That's where a lot of tourism conversations go sideways.
The retired couple driving through your town is not having the same experience as the thirty-five-year-old researching every coffee shop before she arrives.
The family with three kids and a cooler isn't looking for the same thing as the solo traveler who suddenly decided they needed to spend a week staring at mountains and rethinking their life choices.
But they do have one thing in common.
They chose you.
That sounds obvious, but it isn't.
They weren't routed through your airport.
They didn't have a conference tell them where to go.
They didn't end up in your destination because a cruise ship dropped them there for six hours.
They looked at a map and pointed themselves in your direction.
That's a very different kind of visitor.
And honestly, a very flattering one.
Here's where I think the industry gets a little confused.
Most road trippers aren't looking for perfect.
They're looking for memorable.
A weird museum.
A local recommendation.
An old sign.
A great burger.
A scenic overlook.
A conversation they tell someone about later.
They're collecting stories.
The problem is that many destinations are still trying to hand them marketing.
And those aren't the same thing.
The host who leaves a handwritten note in a vacation rental understands this better than some tourism organizations do.
The waitress who tells you where the locals actually eat understands it.
The guy at the hardware store who accidentally becomes an ambassador for the community understands it.
Half the visitor experience isn't infrastructure.
It's people.
This is the part where somebody gets uncomfortable.
A lot of destinations are still spending enormous amounts of energy trying to attract travelers who aren't showing up in the same numbers.
The conversations are about recovery.
Air service.
International markets.
Future demand.
And all of those things matter.
But while everyone is looking toward the horizon, there's a parking lot full of visitors standing right in front of them.
Road trippers aren't a consolation prize.
They're not what happens when the better visitor doesn't come.
For many communities this summer, they are the visitor.
Treating them like Plan B is a mistake.
I don't think it's an accident that people are suddenly interested in small towns and historic places.
America turns 250 next year.
And whether people realize it or not, I think they're already feeling it.
They're looking for roots.
They're looking for stories.
They're looking for places that feel connected to something bigger than whatever is trending this week.
Tourism professionals sometimes overcomplicate this.
People aren't always searching for an attraction.
Sometimes they're searching for reassurance.
Reassurance that interesting places still exist.
That local character still exists.
That community still exists.
That America still exists outside of their feed.
Small towns happen to be very good at providing that.
Honestly?
Probably less than we think.
This isn't a campaign problem.
It's an attention problem.
Look at your drive markets.
Talk to your operators.
Ask your hosts what they're hearing.
Walk your destination like someone who has been trapped in a car for seven hours.
Can visitors find parking?
Can they find food?
Can they figure out what makes your place special?
Can they experience your community without needing a strategic planning document?
Start there.
Because the road tripper isn't arriving by accident.
They chose you.
And in a tourism economy where attention is harder to earn than ever, that might be one of the most valuable signals we're getting all year.
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