Our last night on the road of a 3,500 mile two-week road trip. That’s right folks, 3,500 miles! Hip Flagstaff was the spot for the most expensive motel of the entire trip, $100. We yelped (don’t laugh, I’m learning how to do this stuff!) and consulted Trip Advisor for the last time on this long haul. Flagstaff’s Budget Inn, where we stayed, was rated #1.
Across the street was the sign below:
Were the owners of this motel Navajo? I doubt it. Yet their sign prominently displayed an American flag and “Arizonan” at the top.
Just who is an “Arizonan?”
The plot thickens. The owners of the Budget Motel were either Indian (not Navajo) or Pakistani — most likely Muslim! Oh no!
Why would the owner of “America’s Best Inn” put “Arizonan” on their sign? I didn’t appreciate all it implied.
But even with the not so subtle right-wingedness I enjoyed being in Flagstaff. It was cool both in temperature and hipness.
See, it says “Revolution” in red on the white door below, to the right of the bike store entrance.
Today we’re glad to be home in Tucson. We even have air conditioning. I’ll send the map of our route if you’re interested, but suffice it to say we saw all of eastern Oregon, the non-winding road by the Snake River in Idaho, some of the best parts of Utah including a strenuous hike to the Delicate Arch in Arches National Park. We drank lightweight beer (3.2 percent alcohol) at the local Moab Brewery. We opted for a Monument Valley route back to Arizona.
We avoided Nevada, a state I’ve had enough of.
In Flagstaff, I actually had a crab/artichoke/jack omelette at the fabulous La Bellavia restaurant directly across the street from the bike store. I’ve never eaten crab in a landlocked place before. The street was overrun with espresso bars and the kind serving alcoholic concoctions. No lightweight drinks here!
We’re thinking about returning to Flagstaff for a cool weekend in August, staying in one of the historic Anglo hotels downtown.
Home, even though I’ll never be a true Arizonan, Navajo or any other native type.