Musings of a Restless Mind

Chattanooga seemed like a very nice town with a “bigger than a small town” but not a “too big for its britches” place, so I had arranged to arrive a day early to explore a little bit. I had nabbed a tourist magazine from the lobby of the Marriott last year and planned on checking out the aquarium which everyone assured me was not to be missed.

A word should be said about Amtrak geography. On Amtrak, the shortest distance between 2 points is never a straight line. To get to Chattanooga from New York City the train hurtles through the infamous ACELA corridor, through all the cities of power then down to North Carolina. It doesn’t cross the Appalachians for a direct route to Tennessee, of course. Instead it rumbles hundreds of miles further south in its Sherman-esque march to Atlanta. Although Chattanooga is famous for trains, including a train museum and a short local rail line, no modern railroad comes within a country mile of it. I understand they’ve lobbied for decades to get a spur line to the nearest Amtrak route in Memphis. Can you imagine? The Country Music Express departing Graceland and heading for Nashville with a pleasant stop in Chattanooga. But I’m where good ideas go to die, so don’t tell anybody you heard it from me.

In any case, once in Atlanta, it was a short trip to the MARTA Arts center for the local transport hub. From there, it was a quick train ride even further south to the airport where I picked up one of the SUVs that headed north hourly to Chattanooga. I ubered from there to the Hotel Bo (kitty-corner from the Con) because I was too late to book the convention hotel that was attached to the convention center. I dropped my duffel bag and walked all of 50 feet to the local shuttle stop. Chattanooga has a feee shuttle that cruises downtown, one of the shuttles arriving at each stop every 15 minutes. Did I say FREE loud enough for you? BTW, it’s also ELECTRIC as they claim even more proudly than free. To the disappointment to any of the in-crowd that stumbled upon my blog, even though it was still June, the shuttles weren’t painted in rainbow colors. Come on, even PridePeople™ can get behind free, right?

So the driver gave me the guided tour and dropped me off at the riverfront where the aquarium is. The riverfront can be tricky in Chattanooga since the Tennessee River loops a full 180 degrees just after Chattanooga on its twisted journey to the Mississippi. That is a circumstance that plagued Grant and the Union Forces for a long time during the Civil War. The aquarium indeed lived up to its reputation as a pleasant and enlightening experience especially about river critters. Growing up in Southern California, I know nothing about these alien things called rivers. You mean there’s actual water that flows freely all year long? Above ground? I’m used to Hollywood always filming their drag racing scenes and car chases in the Los Angeles (River), which is basically a 50 foot wide concrete racing strip for 90% of the year. The aquarium also had a wing devoted to ocean life with a live penguin exhibit, but I didn’t see any scenes like from my favorite gif.

I’m sure you can find much more informative reviews elsewhere.

I walked across the courtyard of the plaza to the Medal of Honor Museum. I had forgotten that Sgt. York was from Tennessee, but so have been many other Medal of Honor recipients. One was an attack helicopter pilot in Vietnam who was attempting to support a small squad of 4 US soldiers that were surrounded by hundreds of enemy soldiers. Once he had expended all his weapons in suppressing fire, he stripped the helicopter of weapon mounts, landed under enemy fire, had the soldiers clamber onto any available point to hold onto and flew them back to his base. When he got them all safely there, one officer asked, “What have you done to that chopper?” In the best US Army tradition, he replied, “Do you want me to take them back?”

Unfortunately by that time I was all tuckered out as some assure me they say down South, so I skipped the Pinball Arcade and Museum. Sorry Yarry. Also I skipped the local short train rides up Lookout Mountain and the rather spectacular waterfall. Ah well, leaves me more to explore next year.

I walked over to the Con hotel and sat for a moment with someone who had been waiting 4 hours to check in. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that I had to go to an alternate hotel.

Next, the Con itself.