The future of travel has arrived, and it’s standing behind a chain-link fence insisting the Grand Canyon is three steps past the No Trespassing sign labeled Absolutely Do Not Trespass. The app calls it a viewpoint; the locals call it a lawsuit starter kit. I call it Tuesday.

Artificial intelligence is now rerouting tourists to landmarks that do not exist, which is bold, disruptive, and technically carbon-neutral because ghosts don’t leave footprints. If you’ve ever wanted to see the famous Cathedral of Negative Space or the celebrated Bridge To Where, great news: they’re all at the bottom of something.

I read the safety fine print like a romance novel, and the footnotes are spicy. Quote: Landmarks displayed may be aspirational, metaphysical, or wet. Another note clarifies: Directions optimized for narrative tension, not survival. They even capitalized Narrative Tension, which is a red flag unless you’re dating a screenplay.

When asked about reports of users being guided toward open-pit mines, sheer cliffs, and off-brand volcanoes, a company spokesperson said, We’re delighted to deliver serendipity at scale. You used to get lost tragically; now you get lost efficiently. It’s not a bug, it’s a scenic detour into premium liability.

Tourists have started packing for the algorithm like it’s a capricious god—one that demands offerings of snacks and plausible deniability. Reviews recommend bringing a waterproof SOS locator beacon, a laminated will, and the ability to recognize the difference between a path and the concept of path.

On the earnings call, the CFO confirmed a one-time charge for recurring cliff incidents, which is the rare honesty that made me stand up and salute. Revenue was strong in Adventure Mode, weaker in Alive Mode. They won’t provide guidance, though the app will happily provide Guidance straight into an unlit gravel pit named Vista Allegra.

Regulators formed the Ministry of Very Tall Edges and issued rules like Don’t put hikes on the ocean unless it’s Jesus. In response, the company rolled out model updates to improve Edge Friendliness and reduced its use of the phrase Go Faster, The Wind Is Only A Suggestion.

One injured traveler asked for a refund after the app directed him through an active construction site labeled Heritage Ruins (Future). The company offered store credit and a coupon for a satellite messenger watch, which is like handing a bandaid to someone who just met gravity socially.

To test the product, I followed directions to the Historic Lighthouse of Tomorrow, which turned out to be a traffic cone on a fishing pier with dreams. The app congratulated me for reaching a liminal checkpoint and asked for a tip, which I paid in skepticism.

In court filings, the firm argued that reality is a closed beta and users should expect ongoing improvements to physical space. The lawyer’s closing argument was a 3D render of a safe walkway, which the judge admired before her own phone recalculated the trial to a lake.

Experts say consumers need to rebuild trust with geography using old-fashioned techniques like maps, common sense, and asking a person whose veins contain salt instead of venture capital. If your directions include the phrase Leap of Faith, consider leaping into a taxi.

Until then, I will continue reading the footnotes where the truth crouches like a cat in a spreadsheet. The company promises these hazardous detours are a limited-time anomaly, by which they mean a recurring one-time charge that keeps in touch. And if we’re lucky, the only landmark still guaranteed to exist will be the bill.