Day 6: Just a half a mile from the Mississippi Bridge

Since my schedule is pretty tight, each day I generally have to chose one or two things to do before I hit the road. This morning in Chattanooga there were two seemingly good choices: the new aquarium and IMAX theater and Rock City. I say "seemingly" because the people at the Waffle House yesterday went on and on about how cool the new aquarium was, and for 20 miles into town I saw billboards extolling the virtues of Rock City. The map of Rock City seemed pretty cool, and since I wanted to be outdoors, not to mention I still haven't been to Baltimore's aquarium and I skipped over the awesomeness of Atlanta's, I figured it was a good choice.

Time for New Rules: Unless you know otherwise, never go to a place that advertises excessively and uses fun but meaningless adjectives like "amazing!" and puts other phrases in quotes "See Seven States" (yeah, I can see all 50 from the space station ...)

The map of Rock City makes you think you are going to be climbing up a hill, after all it is on Lookout Mountain. Well, Rock City is at the very top of the "mountain" and the approximate difference in potential energy between the entrance and the top is about 0. It might be fun for kids, but the price is pretty steep, in both time and money.

Speeding away from Chattanooga towards Memphis, I took a brief detour to travel on the Natchez Trace Parkway which runs from Natchez Trace, Mississippi to Tennessee. Nick Bollweg recommended the trip to me, but originally I was going to go through Birmingham, Alabama and ride on the parkway much longer than the 10 miles I ended up riding.

Eventually I ended up in Memphis, land of blues, barbeque, and Elvis. After checking into my hotel (5 stories tall and the slowest elevator know to man. Luckily I don't mind exercise), I headed down to Beale Street to check out the action. Of course it was Monday and the pickings were slim. Of course, part deux, I was two days early for the only day during the year when motorcycles are allowed on Beale Street -- it's usually blocked off from all traffic. I ended up having amazing pork ribs at Alfred's while listening to a great band play blues.

When I left the parking garage, the attendant who took my money scolded me for parking my motorcycle in the garage. I just shook my head and rode off.