There are now four stalls, each costing as much to build as a regular unit in the $1,750,000 motel. The stalls are of rough-sawed redwood. Red cedar shake shingles give a western touch. The rate: an inhuman $3 a day, single occupancy.
Manager Quincy Taylor has had few equine guests so far, but he expects more when the big horse shows start in September and the state fair comes in October. He also expects there will be more such motels as his.
"It is very bad on horses to go over 400 miles a day," he explained. "They get nervous. You have no idea what problems this can entail."
There are no problems for horse owners who stop at the Continental. Porters at the Inn give horse guests any specific attention requested—feeding, spraying, grooming and even bathing. People don't get those extras.
BACK TO NATURE
On the theory that masses of people and wilderness are not compatible, a movement has begun within the National Parks Service to cut down on areas available to car campers. Backpack campers will be welcome, as always, provided they behave themselves, but the car-camping set has included too many of the type likely to douse a roaring fire with a bucket of kerosene, toss old underwear into the Morning Glory Pool and dump watermelon rinds into the sacred perfection of Rainier's Shadow Lake.
The aim is not to keep the car camper out of the parks but to confine him to "recreation areas" where beauty parlors, coin laundries, cocktail lounges and kiddies' playlands are available. Already camping sites at Teton's Jenny Lake have been reduced from 115 to 85. Next year they will shrink some more.
The service expects some howls, naturally, since only a tiny minority of those who visit the parks realize that they were set aside as nature sanctuaries to be preserved forever in their pristine state. There is something terribly unpristine about a discarded beer can.
"Thank God the season's short," said one ranger. "The parks need the rest of the year to recover."
SAME OLD FRONTIER