The day’s drive was straight east from Rufus, Oregon and our campground to our final stop in Boise, Idaho where we started our journey a whole month ago.

For a time i84 followed the bends in the Columbia River, then as the river turned north, we headed south to a brief stop at a roadside McDonalds at Stanfield for a breakfast muffin, hash-browns and coffee. I cancelled tonight’s planned stop at Pendleton KOA (incurring another night’s cancellation fee) and phoned ahead to Boise to extend our reservation for another night.

Then it was south-east past Pendleton, La Grande and Baker City until we slipped off the interstate and into a nowhere town called Huntington for lunch. I munched on the watermelon we bought in Wenatchee and read on a nearby sign that Huntington’s main industry is concrete making (the nearby town of Lime has a fantastic disused concrete works I wish I could have stopped to photograph).

Lunch and a short nap over, we crossed the border from Oregon into our favourite Idaho and stopped at a rest stop to photograph our first sighting of the Snake River.

Whereas Pink Floyd had seemed the perfect soundtrack in southern Washington state, in Idaho it could only be more country music. Blake Shelton’s new “All About Tonight” EP played on a loop and we sang along loudly as the miles passed by quickly.

It’s amazing how a change of scenery and a change in climate can lift your spirits. Only a few days ago we were feeling cold and more than a little downhearted. Today, even the expected thunder storm over Idaho couldn’t dampen our enthusiasm to be back.

I’d expected to have mixed feelings about returning to our start/end point in Boise earlier than we’d originally planned. After-all, no one wants a holiday to end, let alone one as long and as interesting as this. But as we’d enjoyed Idaho so much during earlier parts of the journey — from Boise to Arco in the east and Wallace in the north — instead of feeling sad, we felt happy. We’ve not only completed our 3000 mile round trip but have ended up in a place that we really like and are looking forward to spending our last fews days exploring Boise in the sun.

Our original plan had been to spend today making our way to Portland, Oregon for a two-night stay at Pheasant Ridge Resort and a day in the city with my friend Petra acting as tour guide. Instead we decided to miss out Portland and speed on back to Idaho with two long days of driving followed by two long days of resting and sunshine.

We pulled out of spot 13 at Elwha Dam RV Park, filled the propane tank to three-quarters full and waved at Mike and Lynn who had been so hospitable the night before. It was an easy hop onto i5 and then around fifty miles south to the turning for our next volcano-related stop at a viewing area overlooking Mount St. Helens.

We parked first at the visitors’ centre for a short look around and to data roam while I cancelled our reservation at the campground in Wilsonville, south of Portland and rearranged the few days ahead. Making a last minute cancellation always incurs a one-day charge but wasting $35 seemed worth it to get back into the sunshine. I let Petra know we wouldn’t be stopping by and drove another forty miles inland and uphill along the Spirit Lake Highway to the Johnston Ridge Observatory viewing point for a windy hour hoping to see the mountain that was completely covered in cloud.

Luckily, a park ranger was on hand to explain the events of May 18^th 1980 when the mountain last erupted, including horrifying tales of landslides, mudflows and shockwaves that demolished trees across an area the size of the city of Chicago.

My ears were ringing with the cold wind, so before too long we were back down the mountainside, filling up along the way with $100 of unleaded fuel for the RV and coffee and PayDay bars as fuel for me. The remainder of the drive was going to be a stretch of almost 160 miles.

Pulling out of the gas station, I put Girlschool on loud and we were all set for the drive south down i5 and past Portland and onto i84 east. Girlschool gave way to Motörhead and then to Rush and as we crossed the mountains east of Portland, the sky lifted and immediately so did our spirits (Of Radio). i84 follows the Columbia River Valley and the river route of the old Oregon trail and I was still singing as the green of the landscape gave way to rusty browns and golds. This is the type of landscape I love and it looked beautiful as the blue sky faded towards sunset.

I could have driven on further east, but at the junction with i84 and highway 97, we crossed the Columbia River, swung a sharp right and a mile down the road were pulling into our campground for the night, Peach Beach. Stood looking out over the river, I poked $20 for a one night stay into a slot in the self-pay station and felt warm and happy that we look like we’ll end this trip on a high after-all.

Back on the road, we headed east and (not for the first time and likely intensified by the weather) it really does feel like we’re now on the home stretch. 101 wound past Dungeness and before too long we turned left towards our lunch stop in Port Townsend.

Port Townsend is known for its 19th century buildings and although it’s not quite the “Paris of the American North West” that our guide book described, it was a great place to window shop and grab lunch at Waterfront Pizza.

Instead of buying lunch by the slice, we opted for a table upstairs and drank root beer while we waited almost half an hour. It was well worth the wait and probably the best pizza I’ve tasted anywhere, even in Chicago. A single 12" pizza was big enough for two, so we ordered a meaty one and veggie one and came away as stuffed as the pizza and with a box to take away.

After a short walk on a short pier, we were back in the RV and on our way to the 101 and the longer drive south. For miles the road followed the water but by Hoodsport I was yawning and in need of perking up. A stop for coffee and a chocolate chip cookie did the trick and the next fifty miles went easier and quicker until we reached i5, Olympia and tonight’s stop at Olympia Campground just south in Tumwater.

The people are incredibly friendly and lucky for us in spot 13, the wifi is the fastest and strongest we’ve had the whole trip.

Alex had made the Olympic Peninsula a set-piece largely because the Twilight series of books are set around here. He’s no vampire buffy but has read the books, so like thousands of other tourists we slipped out of the Elwha Dam RV Park and onto the 101 Olympic Highway for today’s drive to Forks and the Pacific Ocean.

The drive took us past Lake Aldwell, Lake Sutherland and along the south bank of the large Lake Crescent, eery and still and surrounded by the hills of the Olympic National Forest shrouded in low cloud.

I’d skipped breakfast, so by eleven o’clock I needed food. When a sign (starting with the word “hungry”) loomed up in-front in Bear Creek, I made a rush decision and swung the RV left into the parking lot of The Hungry Bear Cafe, not noticing that the sign looked like a hangmanÙs noose. “Sit anywhere you want,” said the server, but with all but one table still littered with the remains of other people’s breakfasts, we sat by the window and ordered breakfast with sausage (patties), hash browns, eggs (two, sunny-side up) and coffee. The breakfast was greasy but what amy biddy needed and better still the wifi was stronger and faster than the campground.

The owner told us that only two or three people a day stop by outside of the season when tourists head west in search of tranquility and others to Forks and beyond in search of vampires and werewolves. In the past, Forks has been a lumber town and relied on the nearby Clallam Bay Correctional Center, but since the Twilight books has seen a 600% increase in tourism. We drove the (short) length of its main street, then did a u-turn back to a rough gravel parking area, slipping ours into a line of RVs.

Every shop in town seemed to have jumped on the Twilight bandwagon and can you blame them, really? The main street was full of teenagers and their parents, most of whom would probably never have visited the town other than for the books’ references. Wet and bedraggled, they crammed into Dazzling Twilight, the official merchandise store with its fake forest and racks full of everything you can possibly print a Twilight logo or reference on to buy.

Shopping wasn’t our number one priority, but we did pick up a little something for a little somebody (megntioning no names) and I found it hard to decide between two options, taking a Twilight tour or giving blood. Oh, the juxtaposition! Oh, the agony of choice!

We shot a little video (to be posted later) and walked back to the RV to escape the vampires and the weather. I’ve not read the Twilight books or seen the movies, but I hear that vampires live in Forks and werewolves in nearby La Push. I’ve always had a problem with hairy ears (I mean, who shaves their ears?) so we slipped down the road to La Push at the mouth of the Quileute River where it meets the Pacific Ocean listening to an iPod search for anything with “blood” or “vampire” in the title.

The last time we were by the Pacific was at the start of our last road trip on Ocean Beach in San Francisco. This time the Pacific was less welcoming (and visible) as the clouds had got lower and the rain heavier still. I pulled the RV into a marina parking lot, slipped on my (embarrassing) waterproof and Alex’s baseball cap for the short photo walk to the sea.

The people of Forks might be making hay while the Twilight shines, but in murky Las Push, its a very different story. The native Quileute Tribe and their neighbours seem to have resisted the urge. We resisted the urge to give the locals a good laugh at our waterproofs, so before long we were back on the road and on our way back to Port Angeles.

We left Port Angeles all jumpered up and headed out down a road I'd read all about—usually while Edward drives his Volvo at a hundred miles per hour. We stopped at a diner that looked as appealing to me as animal blood and so I stayed in the van while Mum and Dad went out to hunt themselves a breakfast.

Once we had made it to Forks I realised the main difference between Bella’s home and the real place was Twilight. Everywhere we looked there were cardboard cutouts of Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart (Edward and Bella if you didn't know!) and signs written in the same typeface as is used on the coven cover of the books.

It seemed like everyone was jumping on the band wagon, even down to the “give blood” sign in the middle of the street; I hope people were giving O negative—Bella’s blood type people! (or does that make me too much of a fanpire?).

We went into the official merchandise store—past two guys dressed up as Edward and Jasper—into a fake forest glowing with ultraviolet light and filled with t-shirts, blood red tea and rebranded copies of Romeo and Juliet and Pride and Prejudice along with, of course, many copies of the books and films.

It took all of my super-self-control and being slightly freaked out by the girl behind the counter with gold contact lenses to make me leave the shop and head to the second and third (simultaneously) spots on today's trip: La Push and the Pacific coast. While Forks has gone all Vampire crazy, besides the odd wolf reference and the ‘treaty line’, you would never know that Twilight’s third character was from La Push.

We drove all the way down to First Beach but the bad weather prevented us from seeing much at all. I wished my body temperature was as hot as a werewolf as we trudged through the all-but-deserted marina but I would have to settle for being as cold as a vampire when I got back.

18 south to Auburn took way less time than I expected and it was easy to follow the road to i5, Tacoma and then north on 16. After one (unfortunate) detour in Bremerton, we crossed the bridge onto 101 and the Olympic Peninsula, following it west to Port Angeles.

We were ahead of schedule and the sun was shining so we decided to head to the unmissable Hurricane Ridge. Slipping the (pretty) Ranger my annual National Parks Pass, we snaked up the eighteen mile trail to the summit and unable to resist swearing a surprised “fucking hell!” at the incredible view, parked the RV in the already largely deserted car park.

From Hurricane Ridge, we had an amazing view of the snow-capped mountains all around and the wild deer that graze the meadows.

While everyone else made a start on the hike to the summit and the promised views out towards Canada, I chose to make coffee and take a nap, but before too long (and with the camera battery dead) we were all back in the RV with the intention to come back tomorrow (update: that wasn’t to be).

Going up to the ridge was more fun than coming down the steep slope, so I slipped the RV into second gear and used engine-breaking all the way back to the bottom and after asking the (prettier) Ranger for directions we made the short drive to the next two night's stop at Elwha Dam RV Park.

Pulling into the office, I paid the lady with a Sarah Palin calendar for two nights and before we had reached our spot in number five, Alex had found the wifi network. Connected at last. Although slower than second gear, it feels good to catch up on email and the few days of missing posts on this site.

When everyone was awake and full of breakfast, I wandered over to the shower block but without any tokens for three minutes of hot water, I had to delay the shave that I’ve been promising myself for the last few days and be satisfied with a blast of cold water.

On the road by nine, we headed for the main stop of the day, Leavenworth, a former timber community and, since 1962, a mock Bavarian village. We sat in a cafe drinking coffee and eating pretzels with Dijon (although I asked for German) mustard while I treated myself to a little iPhone data roaming to check email and let my friends in Seattle know that we are on our way.

Everything in Leavenworth (except the mountains all around) is fake. Although the veneer is appealing for the first ten minutes, the closer you look the more you notice that there's nothing of substance. Shops are full of Bavarian themed tourist tat, but everything is just that little bit off, like a Bizarro Bavaria.

Disappointed by the Gingerbread museum our Washington guidebook spoke so highly of, we bought cheese and salami for lunch and headed off on the road towards tonight’s stop in Preston.

Here was where the day really took off. The drive from Leavenworth north west through the Wenatchee National Forest is everything that we came to Washington to see. The Cascade Mountains (some of them snow-capped) and white water rivers are stunning, so I set the RV’s cruise control at fifty and sat back to enjoy the ride.

The road took us up to 3,500 feet and down again, past ski resorts that must be incredible in winter time, and through Wellington, Skykomish and on to Gold Bar where I filled up the RV with another $75 of fuel. From there it was a drive past fields full of fruit, cherries, peaches and apples, through Startup, Sultan and Monroe. The road curved south back towards i90 through Duvall, Carnation and Fall City where we stopped for a few minutes to pick up a few supplies for tonight's chicken dinner.

Finally we took a left turn for the final, short stretch to Preston and our home for the next four nights, Blue Sky RV Park. The park, boasting sparkling restrooms, a soft drink vending machine and a dumpster across street (all the modern comforts of home (but no wifi)) caters mainly for residents instead of visitors, but it’s as clean as a Bavarian’s büstenhalter and within yodelling distance of i90 making it the perfect base to head into Seattle over the next four days.

i90 sped us west, first to Butte and then north a little, past Anaconda, Deer Lodge and Drummond. The scenery changed constantly from thickly wooded forest, craggy outcrops and dry plains, but there was no real time to stop except for an hour in a rest stop for me to doze.

We’ve played plenty of music on this trip, but one song has been banned, for a reason. 100 miles east of tonight's destination — Missoula in Montana — we played Dry Town by Miranda Lambert where the song starts:

Well the road was hot and flat as a ruler
Good hundred miles between me and Missoula
That vinyl top wasn't gettin’ no cooler
I stopped at a quickie sack
Well I figured I’d need about a sixth of Miller
And one of those things so I wouldn’t spill ’er
I asked the girl if the beer was in the back…

Miranda doesn't mention Thirteen miles of road construction and traffic cones in the song, which slowed us down a little, so two hours later we slipped off i90 into Missoula to get directions to tonight’s campground. We drove through downtown Missoula and back onto i90 and the short hop to 93 and the Jellystone RV Park.

The owner wouldn’t tell me how much he pays to license Yogi Bear and Friends names and likenesses from Hanna-Barbera Productions but I guess it’s a shiny Dollar or two because Yogi Bear is everywhere. The gift shop (I’ll buy stuff tomorrow) has the biggest selection of stuffed and plastic things I’ve seen, and best of all of course…

We found Yogi!

By the way, I’m getting married in New Zealand next September.

Congratulations Mikey and Sarah. We can’t tell you how pleased we are for you both.

For me, essentials meant sorting through photos and editing video of the horse riding trip a few days ago. After most travellers had left the campground the wifi got proportionately faster, so I caught up with email and other work related matters and then took a lazy shower.

Late afternoon, I resisted the urge to drink Jim Beam with an elderly couple from Illinois across the way. Instead we unhooked and headed into Bozeman for a meal. I'd very few expectations of Bozeman and had done zero research into the town (it was just supposed to be just one in a series of hops across Montana on our way towards Washington and Seattle) so, Bozeman came as a surprise!

Thursday night is Music On Main street night in Bozeman, with Main Street closed off for street food and other vendors as well as a flatbed truck acting as a stage for the band of the night. The event was still setting up as we parked up on a nearby side street and then walked up Main Street a few blocks to Montana Ale Works.

The restaurant, recommended by Dave Simon, was clearly popular and the place was packed. We found a table outside on the patio and ordered spinach and avocado dip to start (Dave's wife's favourite), salmon, pasta, and a rare 14^oz ribeye steak and parmesan fries and salad for me. A half pint of Missoula ale and several Coke refills washed it down. This was honestly the best meal we have eaten in the US so far this trip.

The Main Street Party was in full swing as we walked back down Main Street to the RV and headed out of town back to the campground. We plan to go back into Bozeman in the morning for breakfast, before our next 200 miles to Missoula where I have a sneaky feeling we’re gonna find Yogi!

We head out around 7:30am and crossed Cody on our way to Park RV to have our 12v power converter replaced. Marty offered to drive us to a diner to get breakfast, but instead we ate cereal in the RV while Marty’s co-worker, Arlen, spent the next two hours and a bit fitting the new converter.

With no power in the van, I plugged in in Marty’s elk-head lined office — drinking coffee that tasted like it’d been scraped off the roadway and listening to Fat Sally (dog) snore — while I read through the final section of Hardboiled Web Design that I’d completed the night before. Then panic! The entire section, all 25,000 words was gone! In its place was a weeks old version of section one. This must have been a Dropbox error, but my heart was pounding and I needed wifi fast.

Work on the RV finished, I said goodbye to Marty and slipped him a $20 tip to buy better coffee and we drove a mile up the road to the nearest McDonalds to eat something quick and nasty and use their free wifi. The nasty burger was quick but the wifi wasn’t, but after a few minutes it was panic over and every file back in its right place. What a relief!

$70.00 of unleaded in the tank, we were on our way across northern Wyoming towards our next stop, 230 miles away in Bozeman, (via Billings) Montana. The two-hour, 109 mile drive north to Billings was uneventful and a few miles south of Laurel and i90 my $25 AT& cellphone blinked into life for the first time. First one bar, then two, then four bars! Connected at last.

We’d arranged to meet Twitter acquaintance, and Billings resident, Dave Simon for lunch, but as we were running a little later than planned, we met in a City Brew coffee house for a brew and a chat. Dave’s a cool guy. Vanilla lattes in our tanks, we drove a hundred yards across the car park to Walmart to stock up on $90 essentials and replaced the food we’d lost when the refrigerator failed. Then it was another two and a half hours and 144 miles west on i90 towards Bozeman.

The Crazy Mountains came and went, as did the first rain storm of the trip so far, and as the scenery became more like the Montana I had imagined as we past Big Timber and Livingstone, we turned off i90 south for the last nine miles to the KOA campground. A confused looking Jim behind the counter obviously wasn't expecting us. We thought we were arriving late but as it turned out, we were a day early! That’ll teach me not to check the itinerary. We should have stayed another night in Cody! Luckily, Bozeman KOA had a spot for us and we were soon hooked up in a tree-lined park with a view of the snow-capped Montana mountains.

Today may have been a boo-boo, but this unexpected day will give us an extra rest day and a chance to explore Bozeman a little, including maybe checking out Music On Main (thanks to Bozeman geek Joseph Bergantine for the heads-up)

Jellystone Park has been losing business, so greedy Mayor Brown decides to shut it down and sell the land. That means families will no longer be able to experience the natural beauty of the outdoors — and, even worse, Yogi and Boo Boo will be tossed out of the only home they’ve ever known. Faced with his biggest challenge ever, Yogi must prove that he really is “smarter than the average bear” as he and Boo Boo join forces with their old nemesis Ranger Smith to find a way to save Jellystone Park from closing forever.

You’ll find out scanty details at IMDB, Wikipedia and a 404 on yogibear.com.

I’m hoping the Yogi Bear will be smarter than the average movie adaptation and not another Scooby Doo.