There seemed to be no clue broadcast about the location of this concert, but I got a hint when the announcer billed it as “The Concert of the Mind,” and later on as a “Fantasy Concert.” Despite my pointing this out, my hosts were intent upon keeping up their search and hopes of finding these performers in person. We kept driving until we arrived at a brink overlooking Moscow, Idaho. Everyone was taken by a sign that announced Moscow was one mile straight below but tens miles away by switchback road that descended the escarpment. After we made our way down, my ride intendedto cross over into Oregon and continue their search for a nonexistent in real-time concert. Since I was headed southeasterly, I departed their company. We wished each other a good one. They headed west and I followed the Snake River canyon toward Boise.
I was let off in the middle of Boise late in the evening. There seemed to be no quiet dark space to spread out my ground cloth and be dead to the world. Walking about, I approached a sizeable bridge. Having had experience staying in a “Bridge Hotel,” I was familiar with the space and shelter provided below, I scurried down the incline and climbed underneath into the darkness. I felt my foot land on something that moved away and heard a voice exclaim, “There is no room here. Go to the other side. Git out of here.” Not at all feeling welcomed, I climbed back up, crossed over and found a nice spot on the other bank. It was sometime in the middle of the night I was awakened by what I most dreaded sleeping out in the open.
A blinding light and voice roused me. The voice asked, “What are you doing here, time to get up.” Coming to my senses I was confronted by fears of who was facing me and the thought that a weapon may be pointed at me. When the voice asked, “ Let’s see some ID.” I was relieved that it was likely an officer of the law who was stirring me. I still wonder if the person may be a nervous sort who may have a finger on the trigger. As slowly as I could, I fumbled for my wallet and produced an ID. As I handled it over, the light was lowered, and I could see two cops watching me. After finding I was not a wanted person, one asked, “Why don’t you go to the Rescue Mission? It’s just down the street. They take care of guys like you. It may be dangerous sleeping under here.” I politely answered, “Thanks for your concern, but I do not need to be rescued and except for you guys, I have not been bothered down here.” With that I asked, “Is it all right now that you have checked me out that I stay here?” In unison the replied, “Suit yourself and take care.” I did not go back to sleep but found some wood to make a small fire to heat some water for oatmeal and coffee breakfast.