Well, it finally happened. My friends actually agreed to play a game with me that didn’t involve plastic monsters or pretending to be a traitor (for once). This is my review of Parks, a board game that has more beautiful art than my entire house. If you want to know if this trail is worth hiking, grab your canteen—my group and I hit the trail, and I have some stuff to say about it!
How It Plays
Setting up
Open the box and drink in the beautiful art. Then, give each player two hiker meeples, a canteen, and a player board. Lay out the trail tiles in a line—these form your hiking path. Place parks, canteens, and gear cards where everyone can reach. Put all the wooden tokens (sun, water, mountain, forest) in their trays. Set out the camera and season card. Pick a starting player—whoever last got sunburned goes first.
Gameplay
On your turn, move one of your hikers forward on the trail to any open tile ahead. Take the action where you land—collect tokens or maybe snap a photo. Use canteens or buy gear to get clever bonuses. Only one hiker per tile… unless you use your trusty campfire (I always use mine too early). Each player will move both hikers all the way to the end of the trail each round. New round? Add another random tile and flip the season card for a new twist. Trails get longer and trickier!
Winning the game
After four rounds, the hike is over! Players trade their tokens to visit parks. Add up points from visited parks, photos, and any secret year cards. Whoever scored the most points wins! If there’s a tie, the last player to finish a hike (the slowpoke) gets the win. I still haven’t won that way, but you never know!
Want to know more? Read our extensive strategy guide for Parks.
Stunning Art and Next-Level Components: Why Parks is a Feast for the Eyes
If you ever want to impress the in-laws or a group of picky board game friends, just crack open a box of Parks. I speak from experience. The first time I set the game up, my buddy Mark literally stopped mid-sentence and said, “Whoa, is that a postcard or a board game?” The artwork packs more jaw-drops than my grandma’s photo albums—and that’s saying something.
First, the cards showcase the glory of America’s national parks with bold, vibrant illustrations. It’s not your run-of-the-mill game art, either. Each card feels like a miniature tribute to the outdoors. My friend Jess actually took a photo of a card and posted it to her Instagram with zero shame (she got more likes than when she posted her engagement ring, sorry Matt).
The tokens? Chunky, colorful, and delightful to handle. Those wooden resources—water, sunshine, trees, you name it—feel like candy (but sadly, taste nothing like Skittles… don’t ask). The canteen and gear tokens are thick cardboard, so even when my cat Oscar tried to make off with one, it survived with only minor tooth marks.
And let’s talk insert—yes, the inside of the box! It fits everything like a glove, so setup and teardown doesn’t feel like cleaning out your junk drawer. No more lost pieces under the couch, which is a miracle in my house.
So, if you like games that are as pretty as they are sturdy, Parks knocks it out of… well, the park. Next up, I’ll walk you through how the gameplay flows and whether elbowing your friends out of a trail spot is as fun as it sounds!
How Parks Keeps the Game Moving: Turns, Trails, and Table Talk
If you’re worried about waiting ages for your next turn, I have great news: Parks plays butter-smooth. The action starts with hikers heading out on gorgeous trails, grabbing resources, snapping photos, and hoping no one blocks your dream camping spot. Each turn, you move one of your hikers down the trail, pick up a bonus, and maybe grab your favorite canteen. Quick and painless! If you take longer than 30 seconds, someone at my table will absolutely start making bird noises to rush you.
Now, about player interaction. I’ve played Parks with aggressive friends and with my grandma (hi, Grandma Ruth), and I can tell you—it’s not a cutthroat game. But you do get those satisfying moments when you land on the space right before your buddy, snatching the last sun token for that round. There’s a dash of passive-aggressiveness as you block spaces, and plenty of subtle strategy. Want to frustrate your friend who always forgets to take water? Park your meeple right where they were eyeing. It’s not Risk-level sabotage, but enough to keep everyone on their toes (and occasionally, grinding their teeth).
Player turns never outstay their welcome, and with the right group, you’ll get a good mix of friendly ribbing and groaning whenever someone nabs a coveted park visit. The trail changes up each round, so things don’t get stale.
If you want to know whether Parks will stand the test of time on your shelf, keep those hiker boots tied—replayability and strategy depth are up next, and things are about to get spicy.
How Many Trails Can You Hike? Replayability and Strategy Depth in Parks
Look, if you’re like me, you love a game that sticks around in your brain longer than the trail mix crumbs on your shirt. Parks does just that, and let me tell you why. First, each season brings a new setup. The trail tiles get shuffled, so your walk through the parks is never quite the same. It’s kind of like hiking with a GPS that’s had one too many cups of coffee. Some tiles let you snap up resources, others let you take photos, and if you play with the expansion, suddenly there’s wildlife everywhere. So, no two games are identical. And yes, my friends once spent an hour arguing the ethics of hoarding canteens—I’m looking at you, Steve.
But is there real strategy in Parks? Absolutely. Timing is everything. Do you sprint ahead for that sweet waterfall park, or do you dawdle and risk getting left in the dust without any sunshine tokens? You need to plan, especially when those special gear cards hit the market. I’ve seen games won and lost on picking the right gear at the right time. There’s also a fun race to see who can fill up their photo album first, and the scores can be real close. The secret objectives spice things up and force you to adjust your grand plans, which always makes me mutter, “Why do I always get the one about collecting mountains?”
Now, tie your hiking boots a bit tighter, because next we’re heading up a steep slope: the great battle between Luck and Skill in Parks.
Skill or Sheer Luck? The “Parks” Balance Beam
Let’s face it, nobody likes a board game where your whole win hangs on a coin toss or the whims of a bad die roll. When I played Parks with my friends (the usual suspects: rules lawyer Jenny and snack thief Marty), I was on the lookout for cheap shots from Lady Luck. The great news? Parks mostly keeps luck in its backpack.
In Parks, you get to plan your own path down the trail. You are never at the mercy of dice, which gives me hope for humanity. Sure, sometimes someone else nabs the gear you wanted (thanks Marty), but you know what? That’s a consequence of their planning, not some random event. If you lose out on a sweet photo op or a Park card, it’s usually because you hesitated or took a detour for s’mores. That’s on you.
There is a bit of luck when it comes to what Park cards and gear show up. Sometimes, you get a bonus that fits your trail plan perfectly. Other times, you end up with binoculars and nowhere to use them. But with smart play and keeping your eyes on your resources, skill wins most of the time.
I really appreciate how Parks rewards careful choices. If your thing is outsmarting opponents and not just out-lucking them, you’ll feel right at home. Would I recommend it? With my whole s’mores-loving heart, yes. Just watch out for that snack thief on the trail.
Conclusion
Alright, that wraps it up—my full trek through the wilds of Parks. To sum things up, this game is an eye-candy trip with smart bits and a smooth pace. You don’t need hours to play or a PhD in rulebooks. Most of my friends loved it (even the one who thinks hiking means walking to the pizza place). It’s all about planning well and timing moves, not just hoping for lucky card draws. If you want a beautiful, clever game with low luck and high chill, Parks is a great pick. Just don’t blame me if you start buying National Park posters. Thanks for reading, and may your next game night be less dramatic than our last squirrel-encounter!
