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.

Saturday. Must try and keep track of the days. Pulling out the gigantic map of America I'm sad as it becomes apparent we just won't be able to squeeze in the drive to see my Canadian chum Charlie. It's seven hours drive North West to Victoria, we can't afford to fly it. Our ultimate destination is Chicago, several hundred miles East for the comedysportz tournament. We have planned rest stops, so we could take those out, but that would mean driving straight though three states, which isn't practical or I suppose healthy on Bron who is doing the driving. We delibrately didn't plan a lot of our road trip, so it's doubley frustrating as it was the one thing I did plan and was looking forward to. If you're reading this Charlie, again I'm sorry pal, next time x

Onwards East and we visit Mount St Helens, an enormous volcano that erupted sideways in 1980 and took a few small towns and a forest with it. It's a massive crater in the ground and at the visitors centre we listen to the ranger's talk. It's a talk she's probably done a million times when she names and describes the last moments of the surveyor who was up on the thing when it went off and only had a few moments to radio the authorities and say "This is it" before, as she describes it "The mountain took him". Grim stuff for family listening. I'm not a dweller on dark stuff, but it does make me wonder which part of a volcano exploding under your feet would kill you first. The rocks? The fire? Being blasted into the air? Probably all of it. On the way back we stop off at the Bigfoot gift shop and Bron buys a spare wedding ring for one dollar.

We cross Oregon and the hours pass to some tremendous views of dams, rivers and cliffs. At Hill Fort indian reservation a quick casino visit to break up the journey, I observe some indians dressed as cowboys and there's a 'Pow Wow' which looks like a car boot sale in the middle of a campsite, but I think we've probably missed the good stuff. Then up slowly into rolling hills and before the sun sets theres a 'vista point', a roadside stop where we can see across the whole reservation. The sun is low and all the buildings, plains and ourselves are bathed in warm a yellow light and we cast shadows that go on forever. We've covered a lot of ground and we're tired, but it's all so beautiful. I'm not done yet.

We stop at another 'America's Best Value Inn' and I'm starving. Even at night it's uncomfortably hot and There's only a 24 McDonalds drive through in sight. If you don't know America, It's not like the UK in how it's laid out. Outside the big cities shops and food places aren't all terraced together like our high streets or town centres. it's all small drive in retail park type places, or outlets are stood on their own. I cross an almost deserted street and try the door but it's locked and no one is visable inside. I stand at the drive through ordering post which is set a distance from the building. I speak into the microphone but no one is there. The lights are on. I try again. Nothing. A read a notice on the big illuminated menu. I am not a car, so I'm not heavy enough to trigger the bell that tells Ronald McDonald I want to be fed. Probably a good thing. I give up and leave.