We drove for a couple hours through bands of rain so intense I felt like my eyes were closed. Some where before we left the Interstate to go to Scotsboro for the "UNCLAIMED LUGGAGE" store the rain stopped and the sky cleared. A miracle!

Both of use with digital cameras and the only part of the trip to Scotsboro photographed was the sign for the exit off the Interstate. I had been looking forward to the store for 5 years. Oh well, at least I found a copy of one of Leonardo Di Vinci's notebook. Caro was underwhelmed said "its a second hand store". Yeah! it is unclaimed luggage which implies somebody had packed the stuff. On the way from Scotsboro we stopped (# 48) for food. Saw a sign at Arby's "5 regulars for $5.95". Galloping episodics we jumped on that. Turned out to be a great deal. We put the uneaten ones on the air conditioner duct at the hotel.

We drove towards Chattanooga on a state highway that was in much better shape than the interstate but we had to get on I24 to get into town in the right place. For a miracle we were on an interstate and it wasn't raining. Crossed the Tennessee river and was impressed with the size.

About 2 miles outside Chattanooga on a steep downslope with trucks whizzing by the rain hit.

We were supposed to take exit 108 from directions to the Holiday Inn Chattanooga Choo Choo. I couldn't even see the windshield wipers at times. Caro screeching "FOR GOD'S SAKE STOP". Finally found an exit, couldn't see a sign. Pulled off and stopped under an overpass until my heart quit pounding and then started driving very, very slowly until navigator (Caro) made sense of the map and the terrain. She guided me to the entrance of HI like a champion. I went in to sign in and had the Bell Captain lead us around to an overhang where he could unload us and take luggage to our room.

I, as usual, had to explain the big ass fan (white noise generator) and the six pillows. Caro and I each have a head pillow, knee pillow, and snuggle pillow. When I fly and cannot take my pillows I don't sleep well.

We took a short nap to let the rain stop then we went exploring and looking for the restuants. There were supposed to be three. I thought the Inn was only associated with the Glenn Miller song. Well the song has an origin. This hotel was build in the restored Chattanooga train station that Miller immortalized.

This picture was from Caro’s camera shot at 8:30 pm with no flash. I lighened it with Adobe and was amazed at the clarity. The colors are so vivid that the engine almost looks like a toy train. Locomotives today sure aren’t that colorful. I didn’t know that the sleeper cars were available as rooms for overnight stay. We found 2 restaraunt. The Union Station bar and grill and one that served American cuisine like hamburgers. And of course we could not agree where to eat, Caro hates bars and I didn’t want hamburger. So we had one of those public, gritted teeth arguments that all married couples recognize in other couples. She went tootling off on her scooter thru the gardens.

I went back into the bar in the lobby and had “bad coke”. Called her and arranged to meet at the gift shop. there we agreed to eat at the Union Station. Long wait so I went back to bar for more rum and coke while she toured more of the gardens. Got paged that our table so I called her cell phone. Modern world, we both have cell phones with Houston area codes. Turned out she saw me as I was calling her. So the call went from me in Chattanooga to Houston to back her in Chattanooga to cover a physical distance of maybe 50 feet. That call cost me 12 cents

The Station was packed and for, as it turned out, a very good reason. The food was excellent and all the waiters also performed on a stage. Some of them had excellent voices. Our waiter , on the right in the picture, had a good Jim Nabor style voice. He said he was working his way through college by waiting and performing.

I had bacon wrapped filet mignon so tender I could have cut it with a spoon. Caro had fish and a salad. She seemed to enjoy the ambience. We went back to room with the argument apparently forgotten 8^). Like a woman ever forgets.

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