Show Low has a coffee shop entirely dedicated to Donald Trump. I feel sick looking at it, try to subvert my gaze as we head toward the donut shop next door in search of coffee for me and sustenance for Carrot. We are walking our 480 mile walk across the Mogollon Rim and here is one question Carrot and I are debating: if people truly knew the truth, like the actual history behind this country vs. what we learn in school, would they care? Carrot thinks yes, the data is so clear, the way white people came and destroyed everything so obvious. People would have to care! As for me, I’m not so sure. It’s discouraging to see the Trump flags waving so victoriously here in Show Low. I don’t trust that every kind of person has the capacity to give a shit.
I’m not sure where we go from here, but for now we have chores. Post office. Grocery store. Laundry. Charge our items. Sew the tiny hole in my quilt. Find fuel for our stoves. Shower. Eat as much as possible. Prepare to hike.
We do these things, and then I spend the rest of the day in bed. I write blog post after blog post. Carrot and I make out for hours and I end up with a hickey.
I think of us in here, naked in our motel room. I think of them over there, with their bobble head memorabilia and their MAGA mugs. I feel a mix of everything at once: pride and shame and resistance and desperation.
All together, here we are.
📍The Mogollon Rim trail is on Yavapai, Western Apache, Hopi and Hohokum land. I am a grateful guest.