Some guests of Modern Motel in downtown Colorado Springs are waiting for court dates on evictions, child custody cases or misdemeanor charges.

Other extended stayers recently moved to the region and haven’t found an apartment they can afford and aren’t sure what to do.

A few have fled domestic violence, and some come from the streets, homeless shelters or jails with enough money in hand to occupy a room.

And then, there are tourists seeking a reasonable rate for an overnight pit stop.

Adjusting its business model last year to a “hospitality meets humanity” approach that welcomes traditional lodgers while also helping a subset of the population with few housing options has been challenging, said Chris, the manager at Modern Motel, who declined to give her last name for privacy reasons.

Like other employees, Chris is homeless and lives and works at Modern Motel.

“We’re the bridge between a home and the streets,” she said. “You see real issues every day of people who truly don’t have anywhere else to go. They don’t qualify for an apartment, or they don’t have a deposit and last month’s rent. Everything they have is going to their temporary housing solution.”

Living in motels and hotels is nothing new, but as Colorado Springs’ homeless population continues to swell, according to statistics, so does the need. And it’s falling on private proprietors to meet the demand, Chris said.

“We didn’t create this situation; this is a city issue, but it hurts the businesses,” she said.

‘A safe place to spend the night‘

Over the first nine months of 2025, nearly 400 residents of motels in El Paso County registered for housing, food and other assistance through the Homeless Management Information System, the most recent statistics show. The statewide database collects information on the use of homeless services.

However, that’s an underestimate, said Zephyr Smith, the system’s data and analytics manager, because an unknown number of people who live in motels can’t or don’t access the services that make them visible to the tracking program. 

The city of Colorado Springs does not provide any direct services for homelessness and allocates to sheltering programs about $500,000 annually from its general budget, which this year is $427.3 million.

The federal government does not fund vouchers for motel stays through its homelessness initiatives, although some local charitable organizations offer vouchers.

The city issued grant funding to Catholic Charities of Central Colorado last year to provide motel vouchers for families for nights when it’s 19 degrees Fahrenheit or below, after the main emergency shelter for families shuttered half its units amid budget and staffing problems.

Catholic Charities’ new 24-unit apartment campus for homeless families, starting with parents who have children under age 5, quickly filled up after opening last August, said Rochelle Schlortt, spokeswoman.

“We have a shortage of family housing, and we know there are still more families that need support,” she said. “Clearly, a motel room helps those families who don’t have a home; it gives them respite and a safe place to spend the night.”

‘One of the easiest ways to provide housing’

A motel is a reasonable alternative for people who are struggling to survive, said Codi Natelli, an emergency medical technician who works for Ascending to Health, the only homeless respite care program in El Paso County.

The nonprofit uses grant money to rent rooms at motels such as Nevada Flats at 512 S. Nevada Ave., and delivers mobile care for patients while they’re recovering from surgery or other hospital admissions. Natelli had 30 referrals for placement last week. She had availability for four.

Overall, a motel room can cost as much as an apartment, around $1,200 to $1,400 a month, Natelli said, but can be cheaper than renting.

“Your room is furnished, you have housekeeping, you don’t have to pay for utilities or cable TV or internet,” she said. “It’s one of the easiest ways to provide housing.”

But not everyone likes the idea. Some of Nevada Flats’ 36 rooms are rented to extended stay guests and some are booked for tourists, said front desk manager Rebecca Holt. She’s had some guests complain that people live there; others pack up and leave.

“I ask that people not judge; everybody is here because they’re in a tough situation, and hopefully they’ll be able to get their own place,” she said.

“Just because you’re staying at a hotel and people are living there doesn’t mean they’re ghetto.”

Because of the difficulties, Holt said Nevada Flats owners are talking about discontinuing the weeklies – people who stay and pay by the week and like any other guest, are charged tourism tax and other taxes.

Modern Motel, which recently remodeled some of its rooms, also faces scrutiny for its efforts to house and employ people who are homeless, Chris said. One repercussion is that people write negative reviews online, saying people are living at the motel.

Some extended stay guests have permanent medical problems, which can necessitate calls for emergency medical assistance.

“Other guests see the ambulances, and we know how that looks. What do you do with that? Where else are they supposed to go? There’s no alternative for them,” Chris said, adding that overnight shelter for disabled homeless people is extremely limited.

Extending grace

It’s 10 a.m. at Modern Motel. Check-out time. But no one is leaving. Guests are staying for weeks and months.

Most cobble together an income for a room, which goes for $400 to $550 a week, Chris said. Some have jobs, others piecemeal Social Security, disability or welfare checks and perhaps accumulate two to four people to pitch in for a room.

Ironically, a new high-rise apartment building where rent can be pricey looms to the south of the 1970s-era motel, formerly Travelers Uptown Motel, at 220 E. Cimarron St.

Four of Modern Motel’s 40 units contain six of seven employees, who work the front desk, clean rooms, take reservations and do other jobs.

As the groundskeeper, 21-year-old Malachi Roberts keeps the property spotless inside and out.

One of his roommates “decided to bail,” which led to his homelessness.

“It’s hard for a lot of people right now,” he said. “You never know what other people are going through to put them in their situation so that they’re living here.”

Ashley Pryor, 33, lost hours at her minimum-wage job and then got evicted because she couldn’t make rent. Her six children are now scattered, and she’s “hopping from place to place,” landing at Modern Motel for a while.

“They remodeled, and it’s a lot nicer,” she said. “The staff are amazing and kind.”

Chris said she often hears that Colorado Springs has a lot of resources to help homeless people. But she said some organizations have closed, others have reduced services and most have waiting lists for transitional housing and programs such as rehab.

Housing assistance for families with children is especially scarce, Pryor said.

“I called the 211 help line and they gave me places to try. The Salvation Army was like, ‘We don’t have any room.’ The place for teens closed its shelter. I called 211 again and said, ‘What am I supposed to do? I’m standing in a park, and it’s winter, and I don’t even have blankets for my kids to lay down and sleep.’”

Willy Glover has been living at Modern Motel for five months. He said he spends nearly all his disability check on the room. “It’s super hard getting rental places here,” he said.

His stepdaughter, Ashley Booth, is also homeless and lives at the motel. She said it’s a difficult cycle to exit.

“There’s really no place for us. If you don’t have an address, you can’t get an ID, which you need to apply for housing and food. You’re forever out here then.”

Motels cannot be used as a permanent address, she said, though people can have mail sent to a motel room.

“We’re all in the same boat,” Glover said.

There are success stories.

Of the 12 respite patients Natelli currently cares for at Nevada Flats, eight are moving into stable housing, with some staying at the motel but paying for a unit on their own.

“I’m equally part excited, part terrified,” Ryan Condit said of regaining self-sufficiency.

Condit has been homeless with his wife, who recently had a stroke, since the pandemic started. The couple’s new apartment will be the first time they’ve had their own place.  

“It’s about time,” he said. “I can’t wait.”