I have lived in cheap motel rooms that smell like cigarette smoke and bleach. Free HBO, Free Wifi, little plastic cups for water, oh what joy. Rooms you can stay in all night, or for an hour.
In New Mexico I got a room for $45, smoked pot, danced and ate fried chicken at the same time. In Oregon I clipped my toe nails in bed and ate a whole bag of chips that left crumbs where I lay my head.
I lie on the bed alone, maps scattered and out of order, the tv on for background noise while my phone pings messages from trail people I don’t really know.