We finally leave heading out past Yellowstone lake and over the Sylvan pass mountain range into Wyoming proper. The sky gets bigger and the mountains take on the craggy block like appearance that you see in western movies, all oranges, yellows and blue skies. Driving through the Buffalo Bill reservation we stop at the Buffalo Bill dam and have barely got out the car when a chap appears in a golf cart offering to take us to the visitors centre, a small building all of two minutes away on foot. All credit to them, they know how to turn an industrial installation into an attraction. I've always associated Texas with cowboys but as we head further east over the Bighorn Mountains, I can feel the wild west. Wyoming is true cowboy country, all ranges and ranches.

Back in the car a man on the radio declares it's the dryest hottest summer here in years, fire warnings are on high and fireworks are banned, much to upset of fourth of July celebrants and firework salesman. They've only had one percent of the 'precipitation' they usually get here, that's rain to you and me, and from what I hear back in blighty at the moment we should look into exporting it.

We spend the whole day on the road, but unlike Idaho, even the longest straightest stretches provide something to look at. As night falls we find a proper old school motel in the town of Gillette. The wife chills out while I wander down the humid street looking for one of their liquor stores or bottle shops (off licence) I find Tack's Liqour Drive Inn, a mental combination of bar, shop and drive through all at the same time. One wall is all display fridges, behind the bar counter is a serving hatch and along the bar itself are seated half a dozen drunks chatting loudly. I love it, but the five minutes it takes me to buy a bottle of red wine from the fridge is quite enough.

Tuesday. The plan is a straight drive with one stop off for sightseeing, but on crossing the border into South Dakota a restroom (toilet) we enter isn't a restroom at all but a small welcome centre. The the helpful assistant Bill asks me a question, "Did you watch the HBO series Deadwood?". Yes. Not only did I watch it, I'm a fan and have the 'Black Hills Edition' DVD boxset and have been waffling on about it in the car. A sweary western series about the formation the law in the town of Deadwood. I knew Bill Hockok and Calamity Jane were both real characters from history depicted in the show, but then Bill blows my mind by pulling out a map and showing me the Black Hills and the real live town of Deadwood, just nine miles away. I loved the show, but it never occured to me to see what else was based on fact - so suddenly I'm bursting with excitement and half an hour later I'm walking down the main street of the real town of Deadwood, South Dakota. Past the restored hotels, saloon and other buildings in which once resided infamous Al Swerengen, Sheriff BUllock, prospector Charlie Utter. I buy a stetson. It's real history and it's very cool indeed.

An hour later we're out of the Black Hills and into Rushmore, home of Mount Rushmore. It's impressive and we get photos of the four presidents, but I'm already made up from Deadwood. George Washington's nose is 21 feet tall.

More road. I start seeing cryptic signs for 'Wall Drug'. Five signs, fifteen signs, more and more along the highway with no indication as to what it is. Is it a town? A shop? Fifty signs later and the advertising has worked, we have a rest break and discover it is shop, but one that has taken over the whole street of a very small town with novelty gifts, lifesize singing puppets of cowboys, water fountains, galleries and models. It's genuinely scary.

After these impromptu stops we're not going to make it to Wisconsin tonight. Never mind

Sunday. We are right on the border of Idaho, they call it big sky country, which as we travel slowly translates as 'flat and nothing to obscure the view'. Evidence of which is found as I've mainly just looked at maps and photographed clouds. Then excitement as we buy and eat food again.

Bye-daho, and into Montana. Only briefly clipping the bottom corner of the state lines where it touches Wyoming, but I still stop and get a state map in West Yellowstone.

West Yellowstone is full of tourist shops, museums and information about Yellowstone National Park, and if you're none the wiser like me you could imagine you're in the place. A bit like the lake district maybe? Travel through and look for a place to stay for the night? Nope. Even with a map I'm totally unaware as to the type of place we are entering as we pay $25 on a toll road gate. It's like Jurassic Park without the dinosaurs. Our plan was to go and see the old faithful geyser then head on to find a place to stay for the night. We stop at an information centre...that turns out to be a ranger station. I ask the nice ranger about accomodation nearby and I sure she think's I'm kidding. She politely informs us the park is full and the only accom will be outside the park, and looking at her with her badge, wide
brimmed hat and immaculatley creased trousers I understand that her job isn't to give out information on accomodation, but really to advise nieve and optimistic English tourists on how to not get mauled to death by bears or eaten by angry elk.

It's so big We're not going to make it out of the park tonight so we decide to sleep in the car and are both gored to death by bears. End of Blog.

By coincidence the founder of Comedysportz Portland is here on a on a road trip holiday with his family, travelling in the opposite direction, and Bron has his number. He knows the park, tells us travelling the park at night is a very bad idea, then goes above and beyond the call of duty by putting us up for the night in his cabin accommodation, bang in the middle of the park on independence day week. I am humbled by his generosity as we go for food, and on the way spot a bear! His kids are into Manchester United and and Doctor Who, and I chat to his lovely wife Ruth as we sit on a wooden porch in rocking
chairs. I eat a bison burger.

God bless Patrick short. Had we not stayed here we'd have missed out. I knew the geyser old faithful was here, but it's a small percentage of the spectacular sights on offer. Bison, Elk, Geothermals, calcified rock faces, hots prings, mud pools and vast steam spouting pools where chemical reactions create brightly coloured landscapes that are hard to put into words.

The park is spread across the centre of a dormant volcano, you could spend a week camping here and not see everything, it's like the raw power of nature going off all over. My dad would love this. It's epic.