Gaspé Peninsula and the Sunken Cost Fallacy

I always read stories of people getting stuck in blueberry fields or on back dirt roads with their vehicles and thought “silly people, why would they think that is a road? Why would they not just turn around?” The people always say that they were trusting their GPS because it had never led them astray before and figured it was a shortcut of sorts. The thing about following Google Maps or a GPS is that they always work so well in a city that when you go to the country or to a new area, you forget about the limitations of technology. Roads seem to all look the same from space and anyone from the area knows that the logging or tractor road isn't a throughway but a computer and satellite can't yet tell the difference. And so the tourists go off through the field and everyone has a good laugh knowing confidently they would never be so naive.

My parents, Amy, and I, recently went on a road trip around the Gaspé peninsula. Being from New Brunswick, we always heard how beautiful that part of Canada is but it always seemed too close for a “real” vacation yet too far away for a “staycation.” We decided this was the year to see that part of our country.

We drove the eight hours from the south of New Brunswick to our hostel close to the Fornillon National Park. We stopped for an extended break near Percé Rock to stretch our legs. Mom and Dad had talked about Percé Rock as a tourism site on the drive up while Amy and I didn't know what they were referring to. When we got there, we discovered it is a large rock to shore where the water has carved out a hole in the middle. Apparently it is one of the big Quebec tourism things according to the brochures. “See our big rock with a hole in it! You can look at it from various angles and then kayak out to it!”

Percé Rock!

I can't mock it that much because New Brunswick has much of their tourism campaign centred around oddly shaped soil erosion as well. “Come see our sandstone rock formations that look vaguely like flower pots! Some of them also have holes in them and watch out that the tide doesn't wash you out to sea!” At least Quebec doesn't charge 10$ a person to look at their rock.

There was a board walk and tower built on the beach by the rock so we walked around and then climbed up to get a better view and take some pictures. Amy stayed on the ground because spending energy climbing a tower seemed like a stupid use of her limited energy. We could see some whales from shore which was exciting because we love whale watching.

Whale!

We are the family that pulls over on the side of the road to watch whales swim by. We will pull out blankets to keep us warm while we sit in the rain watching them feed. On a road trip in Newfoundland, the whales would be shockingly close to shore due to the steep ocean drop-offs so if Amy or I were driving, we were known to suddenly pull over to watch. For some reason, Isaiah decided he had enough of that and took over driving while alongside the ocean. He said it was “so we could look for whales safely instead of killing us all while we drove and looked for whales at the same time.”

Whale showing off!

We spent a few days in Fornollin National Park going on hikes, watching whales and seals from shore, and taking many pictures of birds fishing. Amy and I went out on a clear night and took some amazing night sky pictures in the park.

Sisters at night.

We kept looking for moose but didn't see any even though the park rangers kept saying how many are in the park. I felt that if we had put the camera away, a moose would have sauntered down the road in front of us.

The park is beautiful. 

We then spent a day driving to the more inland provincial park, Parc national de la Gaspésie where we were staying outside of the park in a chalet more in the woods.

Getting to the chalet is when the Watson family learned how how people end up getting stuck in blueberry fields from following Google. You think “that would never happen to me, why are people so stupid?” This is the story of those people.

We knew that we were staying at a chalet in, basically the middle of the woods, so figured the road the lodging would not be great. We assumed it would not be paved or particularly well marked so we weren't too surprised at the start when our Google maps directions told us to drive through a residential area and then the houses and paved road ended.

This did not throw up a red flag to anyone because there were no signs to indicate that the official road had ended. No sign saying dead end. It was simply a road that turned from pavement to dirt. This happens all the time in rural Canada, nothing to think twice about.

About 10 minutes in, the road became significantly narrower. It also had gone gradually from crushed rock to more of an actual dirt road. Down to one lane where we thought “hmmm, this seems suspiciously not like a road” but Google told us that the destination was 20 more minutes down the road so why would we turn around now? It was the end of a long driving day and we all just wanted to get to the destination. Turning around now and asking for better directions would cost us way more time than continuing down this path.

This is what economists like to call “sunken cost fallacy” where you feel as though you have to keep doing something because you don't want the time or money that you invested to be a waste. So you keep investing in the failing business instead of cutting your loses or continue driving down the now-obviously-a-four-wheeler-trail because now Google says you are just ten minutes away instead of making the rational decision of turning around and finding an actual road.

The only thing that kept us going were wooden blue arrow markers seemingly directing us through the maze of trails. Of course we didn't know if the arrows meant a way through the forest or if it was a Hansel and Gretel situation where instead of being lured in by the candy house, the modern cannibalistic witch in the forest used Google, a promise of almost being at our destination, and wooden blue arrows that seemed like vague road markers to get lost tourist to her house. I was honestly so car sick at that point that I would have openly welcomed a witch with a candy house.

Dad kept zooming down the trail with confidence that none of us felt, crossed over a few suspicious puddles of water never knowing how deep the pothole would be, while I was in the back seat trying to keep my lunch in my stomach, Amy wouldn't stop apologizing for booking this place in the wilderness while she kept consulting Google Maps on her phone, and Mom kept hitting an imaginary brake with her foot. Fun times for all.

At this point you are probably thinking, “Wow, good thing you were driving something sturdy with four wheel drive like a truck or SUV.” Yeah, we were in the Toyota Matrix. The good thing about the Matrix is that it has surprisingly high clearance and Mom and Dad have driven it down terrible dirt roads in New Brunswick to get to kayaking spots so this wasn't so unusual for the car. However, it was still quite unpleasant.

Eventually we crossed a hill and we could see a church on the horizon. A church! That meant people and probably a non-four wheeler road!

And then we could see power lines. Power lines! Hope of people!

Eventually we reached a fork where the two options were to either go right, down a steep hill where it looked like the trail had been washed out or left, staying on higher ground with a newly cut trail. At this point Google wanted us to go through the washed out road but we decided that would be a really terrible life decision so followed the newly cut path.

And suddenly we were on a road. An actual two lane road with a power line and crushed gravel. One minute up a hill and there was the lodge and the cabins (named chalets to make them fancier). We had finally made it.

I sat outside trying to recover from my car sickness while the rest of my family registered. The man told them that almost everyone comes through that four wheeler trail the first time and that sometimes GPS tells people to go through an even worse trail. He had already rescued two couples this summer with his tractor on the second trail. Then he gave a little chuckle while commenting on technology which Amy said made her want to throat punch him. Why wouldn't you send that information out on an email when people reserved a spot? It's not that hard to auto-respond to everyone saying, “Oh by the way, Google gives directions through the four wheeler trails and you should not follow them.”

The cabin was quite nice and cozy and next morning when we drove to the provincial park, we zipped along the main road, past the entrance to the four wheeler trail and made it to town in about 20 minutes. We hiked in the park and had a wonderful time. We made it back home to New Brunswick with no further drama. 

Cabin just after dusk.

The lesson here is to never trust technology and to not so quickly judge those people who get lost following their GPS because it could easily be you on your next road trip.