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Getting Around: Flagstaff, AZ

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Flagstaff Profile

I didn’t take transit in Flagstaff. I could have, I should have, I didn’t.

I was too distracted by something else: its thriving, intact, walkable downtown.

Most interestingly, I had been to Flagstaff a half dozen times before, but never even noticed this gem of a town because it was just a stopover on a road trip.

Traveled April 2025

Hotel Monte Vista, Flagstaff Arizona. Exterior view from across the street. Tour guide visible in foreground, in shadows.

Amtrak train stopped across a railroad crossing in Flagstaff Arizona, blocking the road, at night.

View down a one-way street in Flagstaff, Arizona, traffic facing away from us. Shops on either side.

A Place I Thought I Knew

I have “been to” Flagstaff several times before. It’s the closest city to the Grand Canyon, and a common stopover on road trips in the western US. As a kid, I’d probably stopped in Flagstaff about a half dozen times.

My memory of Flagstaff was “pine trees and an Arby’s.” Because that’s about what you see and do when you turn off the freeway.

We even stayed overnight one time. So it was “pine trees, a motel, and an Arby’s.”

And that was my positive impression of the town.

Empty road stretches left to right with a partly cloudy sky overhead. In the background, a silhouette of an antique train.

Route 66 through Flagstaff.

Intersection in Flagstaff, Arizona. Bright mostly-cloudy sky. Some cars.

Intersection near downtown Flagstaff.

And honestly, that was my impression of a lot of places growing up. There’s a road, some gas stations, fast food, and something-something-wavey-hands in the direction of the city. If there were no “attractions” in the city, I never saw the city. (I’m ashamed to say my impression of San Francisco for many years was a bridge and a Boudin sourdough shop. No hate to Boudin.)

Visiting places I thought I knew (and visiting new places) without a car gives a completely different perspective.

Map of Flagstaff Arizona. Box labeled “downtown” in a small area, with “Downtown Motel” and “Amtrak Stop” labeled, very close to each other. Further out, a yellow line indicates “Road Trip Route” and an Arby’s, and “Road Trip Motel (approx), all far from downtown.

Where I stayed during this trip to Flagstaff, compared to where I went during a typical road trip.

More than Arby’s

This time, I took Amtrak into Flagstaff. No car for me. The station is so small and the train so long that it actually blocked two streets.

I got in late… would I be able to eat?

Amtrak locomotive stopped in a railroad crossing at night. Red lights shine at the crossing.

Amtrak train blocking a street late at night.

Yes, actually!

A bar-restaurant was open.

With Cornish pasties and hot wings.

Good hot wings. Hot hot wings.

And live jazz. Good live jazz.

Plate of heavily spiced chicken wings, with part of a tomato, and a ramekin of white sauce. Hand at far right reaching over.

Delicious hot wings. I shared some.

Intersection in Flagstaff, Arizona. Pole in foreground partially obstructs view. Classic building, perhaps 100 years old, in background.

Downtown Flagstaff.

As it turns out, the Arby’s I knew from before is on the outskirts of the city, and there’s a whole downtown I’d never been to! An old downtown. A historic downtown. A cute, walkable, friendly downtown filled with cool shops run by interesting people!

Flagstaff has:

Very good coffee houses
Good food
A really great bookstore
Old buildings with a lot of the original stuff intact
Intelligent people who were also very down to earth
LGBTQ friendly
Solid pizza, even by my NYC standards
Cute, old, well-maintained motels
Bars and restaurants open late
An Amtrak stop right downtown
A (sadly mostly blocked off) Prohibition-era tunnel network

(No, I’m not being compensated by Flagstaff to say this.)

Two large slices of pepperoni pizza on a large round metal disc.

Rather good pizza.

Croissant on a white plate, latte on a dark brown mug, red blue and orange markers, all on a wooden table. Blurred background, indoors.

Excellent coffee.

Basement wall, brown beam, rock wall with a boarded-over passageway. Some sort of tied-up white fabric hangs from ceiling.

Blocked-off prohibition-era tunnel.

Old wooden sliding door opens to a back room with shelving inside, inside an old brick building. Plant and table with boxes in foreground.

Formerly the city jail, this now serves as a storage room for a clothing store.

All of that, and it was easy to get around by walking. My motel was right next to Amtrak. Which was right next to downtown.

People recommended local hiking, but I was so taken by wandering around that I just kept at it. Also took an underground tour that showed us a bunch of the prohibition-era tunnels and taught us some ghost lore. A ghost hunter even tagged along with her equipment.

Gated-off stairway down to a basement next to a building.

This used to lead to a tunnel network. Now it’s just a department store basement. I’m told.

Making No Excuses

What struck me the most about Flagstaff is that I didn’t have to make any excuses for it. Most places I visit, I come with an optimistic attitude, but there tends to be some hitch or another.

Maybe I walked through a run-down part of town. Maybe the train station is a half hour from downtown. Maybe the sidewalks are broken or missing. Maybe the locals say some off-color stuff. Maybe some of the shops are… unsettling. Maybe they’ve made a big revitalized district that somehow doesn’t have much life in it. Maybe I had to climb over a small wall to get somewhere because they never even considered someone might need to walk.

“Babbitt Brothers Ranchers, Merchants & Indian Traders / Flagstaff Arizona” painted onto a wall, somewhat faded, on a brick building with ornamented windows.

Just a cool old-timey town.

There were just… no excuses like that in Flagstaff. I just liked the place. A place I had been to a half dozen times before and yet never knew.

And only got to really know the place because I was on foot.

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