Chattanooga to Kentucky

At this writing we are in Chattanooga, TN. There are some interesting points of history here to share with you. Chattanooga’s name comes from a Creek Indian word meaning “rock coming to a point.” Chattanooga is also the home of the first Coca-Cola Bottling plant in the world. Several Civil War battle sites are located throughout the area.

As a matter of fact, we have been sleeping on one of those battlefields for several nights. The RV Park we are in, you see a picture of the sign here, is located on a strategic battle field in the Battle of Chattanooga. Also pictured here is a plaque flanked by cannons that is a monument to the 84th Indiana Volunteer Regiment. The monument was placed here after the Civil War by some of the men of that regiment who became famous for their fighting in this area. The battle here was between 60,000 Union soldiers and 47,000 Confederate soldiers. There was no decisive winner to the battle, and it only served to slow down the Union advance to capture Atlanta.

Did I tell you that during my undergraduate days I was a history major with a professor who was an expert on the Civil War? Yeah, I know! Who cares!! Most of the roads in the park are named for either Union or Confederate Officers and Generals who participated in the combat around Chattanooga. The other streets are named for Civil War battles.

As an additional note of interest, Holiday Trav-L-Park was developed by Jack McDonald & Associates as a Holiday Inn Trav-L-Park in 1972. In the late 70’s, Holiday Inn determined they no longer wanted to be in the campground business. Mr. McDonald and family maintained ownership of this Chattanooga Trav-L-Park, and the family still does today.

Now here I am, sitting in an historical place looking out an RV window and watching a squirrel scamper about outside. As you most likely know, the hook-ups for water, electric and sewer are laying on the ground outside the RV attached to the proper receptacle. Squirrels, I guess, are curious about such things. The squirrel being watched took an interest in the water hose of a neighbor camper, and as I watched he bit the hose. Water began to spurt in the air. The squirrel jumped back in surprise and hurriedly ran off. Well, I thought, something needs to be done here. The owner needs to be notified, but no one was home. So, I did the next best thing, I thought, and called the park office and told them what had happen. “You’re kidding!” she said. “No, that’s right,” I said. “Maybe someone should cut off the water,” I told her. “Alright, thanks for calling,” she said.

After a few minutes waiting, I thought that maybe I should cut off the water myself. I started out the door to do just that, and just as I started over, the owner drove up to his camper. I got his attention and told him he had a problem. By this time the hose had shifted position due to the spraying water and the spray could not be easily seen. I kneeled down and held my hand at the hole to show it spraying. Then park personnel showed up. The owner of the bitten hose said, “I’ll take care of it. Thanks.” So he got out a new hose and replaced it. No big deal. So you see how little it takes to entertain us campers. We had already seen most of the attractions in Chattanooga. So I went out to check my hoses to see if the squirrel had had an altercation with my hose. Nope! Everything is OK.

As I continue writing this blog it is Thursday, July 12, we are now in Frankfort, KY at Elkhorn Campground. Since this spot is a little over 300 miles from where we left, we decided that we would get a jump start for an early morning getaway so we started preparing to hitch the truck to the fiver and be that much ahead in the morning. As we began doing this, our neighbor camper to the side of us came out and proceeded to raise his awning since the wind was picking up and dark clouds were passing overhead. He didn’t have the advantage of an electric awning like we have so he had a little more work to do. I don’t know his age but he looked to be in my generation. We exchanged a greeting and a few pleasantries and when about our business.



As we were working on getting the truck lined up with the hitch, we heard our neighbor hollering to his wife who was inside the trailer. We looked in his direction and saw him with his arms a little over his head and grasping the awning rails. “My fingers are caught,” he hollered. The wife didn’t appear, so I ran over and tried to pull outward on the railing above his fingers. It wouldn’t budge.

“You have to release the latch” he said. Now I don’t know much about the operation of a manual awning and didn’t know where the latch was. I looked to the other side of the awning and saw what I thought might be a latch. I flipped it and pulled on the other rail. It moved outward maybe an half inch. I got the awning hook, a metal devise about 3’ to 4’ long, hooked in in the strap that is used to raise and lower the awning roller, and pulled as hard as I could. Nothing!

At this point, the wife struck her head out the door to see what was going on. “My fingers are caught,” he again hollered. The wife came out to see what she could do. “The latch is up above” he said. She ran back in the trailer while I continued to pull on the awning rail, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his fingers. She bought back a three-step stool and trying reaching up. “I can’t reach it” she said. At that point I took the hook and tried to follow his instruction on how to use the hook to release the latch. I was not having much success in reaching it well. This is when another neighbor camper showed up. He simple took the hook, pulled the picnic table close, climbed on top and released the latch. None of us had thought of using the picnic table for our ladder.

The gentleman’s fingers were released. He had two deep impressions on the top of the second joint of the first and second fingers of his left hand that looked to be about a half-inch wide and very deep. He moved his fingers and said, “Nothing seems to be broken. Thanks.” He said he had never raised his awning that way before, and that the pain was so bad he was getting dizzy. We went back to our jobs.

We got up early the next morning. We were eating breakfast by 4:45 am. It was raining. It rained on us, off and on, all the time we were breaking down and getting ready to roll. We pulled out about 6:00 am. It was still dark. We made it out without a problem and made our way to I-75 North. It rained on us for five hours. When we got to the Kentucky Welcome Center we stopped for a break. We had been driving for three hours and were about half way. We had “lunch” at 9:30 am. It had been five hours since breakfast. Because of the rain, we ate in the truck. We have to park with the big 18-wheelers at the Rest Area. It was full. So much so that many of the trucks were parked in the “No Parking” zone lining the entry. We were only out of the truck twice to visit the restrooms.

We made it to the RV Park in about six hours. 300 miles 6 hours. You remember of course that our speed is only 55 miles per hour. We pulled into the campground about 12:30 pm. We both got out of the truck, relieved to able to stand. I headed to the office a little ahead of Carolyn and stopped near the office entry to let her catch up. That is when I saw it. The left rear side of the trailer was caved in with all the covers for reflector lights and electric connections ripped off. “Man, what is this?” I said out loud! “When did that happen!” We did not run into anything. We were on the road all day and only stopped once in a wide truck pull-thru. We were puzzled, and still are. That is all we need! A banged up RV.

It had to have happened either in the Rest Area or on the road. As far as we know, the big trucks that were beside us in the Rest Area when we went in were still there when we left. The truck on our left side had not moved. I say, it must have happened on the road. Someone side-swiped us. “No way,” Carolyn says. “I don’t remember any place that could have happened.” Now I must say that the road for the first 20 miles on I-75 north from the Tennessee line is one of the worst I have encountered in a long time. It is a section of concrete with the sectional divisions making that irritating click-clack noise every second, and full of potholes and patches. We bounced all the way. I remember what I thought was an especially large pothole or bump that caused a jolting jar. I remarked, “Wow, that was a big one.“ Could it have been something side-swiping the trailer instead of the jar from a hole? Hum, I wonder. We swear. This one is not our fault.

Now you see where this is leading, don’t you? We are scheduled to take the RV back to the dealer on the 18th of the month to install our Bay Window and some other minor work. But now, it may take a little longer. In the meantime, we are intent on enjoying our stay in Kentucky visiting with friends and relatives and whatever else we can get into that is “safe.” We’ll let you know how it all turns out.