A girl comes to meet me and tells me the rate. The hotel in flagstaff with included breakfast was cheaper.

But I’m here.

The lobby is too small for me to properly turn around without danger of hitting something with my pack.

A disembodied voice from behind a door calls her back.

"Yes, Ms Bates", I say internally.


This is certainly the smallest town I’ve ever seen. Once, it was a mining town. In the 80s, there were 4 car dealerships. Then, all the minerals dried up, and everything else did too.

Now, there’s a motel, a Circle K, a market filled with merchandise purchased from Costco, a Mexican restaurant, and some houses. As far as I can tell, that’s the town.

I have my resupply, and I’m tucked under a blanket. I check the AZT website for trail angels in the area, and apparently there are some people ready to give rides to the trail.

And accommodations. Erk.

I should have checked the website first, but I’m still getting the hang of contacting trail angels. I could have avoided this hotel.

They respond to my text; they’re going to pick me up tomorrow morning for breakfast, and then take me to the trail.


I’m annoyed about the motel.


It’s part of the game.