What I've never seen before is a) a setting that gives you so much detail for each "zone" but never fills it in completely: Oh, you're going into the Great Wood? Cool, here's touchstones for what it looks/sounds/feels like for each season; here's the sorts of questions you might want to ask the players as you explore to dig into their characters and invite them to add to the world; here's some ideas of why they might go into the Great Wood; and here's the terrain/discoveries/dangers/etc that you can put together to make an Expedition. and b) has players so engaged in the world itself from session zero (where your character creation questions define a fair bit unique about the world and get your specific character invested) that they are actively itching to get out there and uncover those tantalizing hints + bits of lore. A lot of the latter of course we'll establish together (my two groups have very different ideas of what the Forest Folk look like, and why they vanished a decade ago for instance).
This made me wonder how static or fixed other posters' notions of our various modes of play are? Sometimes it seems like posters are saying "X doesn't serve" as if X were immutable or one couldn't propose a variant or innovation to enhance the mode in a desired direction. I'm not arguing that all modes are the same, or that everything productive of one mode is necessarily productive of another, but rather saying that one can question these things.
Designs evolve... and it's one of the jobs of a designer to pursue that evolution. One way that designs evolve is through innovation from an avant-garde. Terms like 'neo-trad' and 'neo-sandbox' could be adopted to encourage acceptance of innovations into long-standing modes of play.
Turning back to Stonetop, The Maker's Roads has this detail that seems intended for groups to use straight (there are four pages of such altogether)
The West Road stretches from Stonetop to Gordin's Delve. About 15 miles from town, it crosses the Highway, which runs from Barrier Pass all the way to Marshedge and beyond.
The roads are wide (~20 feet), grand, and humbling, clearly the work of the Makers. They have lasted for centuries, strangely well-preserved and free of growth.
Big slabs of tiled basalt, gently beveled, stretching to the horizon
Trickle of rainwater or snowmelt flowing down gutters that never clog
The unnerving way that dust, seeds, leaves, etc. refuse to land on the pavestones
Tip: speak quietly, reverently, like you were in a church or temple among the faithful.
The roads have lasted for centuries without maintenance. Predators shun them. Beings of darkness, chaos, and death are repelled, and generally cannot cross or set foot on them.
When you attempt to commit violence upon the road, or to harm the road or anything upon it, you hesitate. If you will yourself to continue, lose 1d4 HP and roll +WIS: on a 10+, go for it; on a 7-9, you act but have disadvantage on any rolls to commit violence (including damage); on a 6-, you fail to act and mark dazed
And it gives the group questions like these to connect player characters to the setting detail
Which of you have travelled the Highway or the West Road before? When and to where?
The magic of the roads—the wards against violence, evil, and decay—how do they make each of you feel?
When was the last time that you felt small, insignificant, or just very lonely?
Or at the Crossroads on those roads
What about this place tells you that the veil between life and death is thin here?
This can be used to double-down on the commitment sandbox has to developing and presenting setting in the direction players are interested in. It could be labelled 'neo-sandbox' to call out that some elements are evolving.