Flagstaff

On the road to Flagstaff

Flagstaff looked so beautiful in the distance, from the freeway. Low, blue hills and a hint of pine forest. We were surprised at its coolness when we arrived, not much over 80 degrees with a fair bit of shade.

The edge of town was quite congested on this Sunday of Labor Day weekend. In the lane next to ours, five or more  Corvettes from Colorado seemed to be travelling together, C5s and C6s and one really old one that Bob thinks was a "kit car". We parked on one of the streets near the Amtrak station and walked there, since it's also the Flagstaff Visitor Center. Lunch at Altitudes turned out to be chips & salsa (delicious), washed down with cold beer, after the server told us there would be at least a one-hour wait.


Street corner in historic Flagstaff

Other diners waited impatiently for food while we munched away, and the snack was surprisingly satisfying. Blair the server didn't charge us for the chips and, with a $6.50 bill, I felt very grateful and left her a $5.00 tip. Our grumpy neighbors were not so lucky and walked away both hungry and dissatisfied.

We learned that 80 trains a day pass through Flagstaff, so I was really happy that I hadn't had time to make a reservation for the night when I was surfing through deals earlier in the day. I'm a poor sleeper at best and freight trains all night would be enough to send me over the edge.