We pause at the end of the park at the lodge – it has a fantastic gift shop, and for dinner, buffalo hamburgers. Dry, but not that different from beef. We dine in the car, viewing the layered mounds of the park, before heading into Interior for our motel.
The motel is part trailer park, part camping park, and part ad-hoc do-it-yourself resort. The owners are apparently a pair of friendly old folks with the skin tone of jerky. A dog, some sort of husky German shepherd breed waits anxiously behind the glass counters that are stocked with unidentifiable items.
The room is clean, has more outlets than the typical hotel room at chest-height, and lacks a TV, clock radio or anything more high tech than an air conditioner high on the wall, and a sad coffee maker on the wobbly table. The air was stale, but once vented, the room was ready for a good night’s sleep.