Editor’s note: This piece is a work of satire.
With so many “No Gondola” signs now lining the streets of Lookout Mountain, one could not fault a visitor for wondering, “Why do these people hate gondolas so much? What did gondolas ever do to them?”
It’s important to note the average resident of Lookout Mountain does not hate all gondolas. They are aware that tasteful and useful gondolas exist (mostly in Switzerland), and even believe some can provide a tangible public service. In fact, several conversations with locals have revealed interest in a gondola that could safely transport children to CCS, McCallie and Baylor.
(IN THE NEWS: 7 things we learned about Rock City gondola at packed meeting)
But no such gondola has been proposed. Instead, Rock City has more or less said, “One way or another, we’re building a customer-delivery system, and, trust us, it’s going to be great.”
Here we get to the core of the issue: It has less to do with a gondola and everything to do with the faith and trust a community has in the taste of an organization known for its creepy black-light room.
Taste is important to Lookout Mountain. It is home, after all, to more part-time interior decorators than any other city in Tennessee. To complicate matters further, there has been a lack of transparency. Up till now, Rock City has refused to share its “nine-phase plan,” citing the risk of devaluing its “intellectual property.” Many residents find this claim dubious, because it’s difficult to fathom what, exactly, is intellectual about a family of four paying $152 to look at rocks.
Admittedly, there’s some snobbery woven into this debate. Lookout is no stranger to such accusations, and, in all fairness, some are deserved. Residents can lose sight of the fact that many Americans have never seen rocks before. They can also take for granted how much of a luxury it is to travel up a hill and then look down at some trees and a midsize city.
But name-calling and sign-waving rarely lead to progress. What’s desperately needed is more information. So, as a serious journalist, I’ve been cultivating inside sources for months now. Specifically, I’ve embedded myself among members of the Folk Union of Gnomes International (FUGIT), who are aggrieved by Rock City’s refusal to renegotiate their name, image and likeness rights amid all the latest expansion plans. A few of the more radical dissidents claim this is the greatest exploitation of gnomes since the “Travelocity Affair of 2004.”
Perspective: Breaking — Rock City’s nine-phase plan leaked! gallery
(IN THE NEWS: Rock City gondola rejected by Lookout Mountain planners)
Now, after months of tireless research, in what might be the greatest whistleblowing coup since Deep Throat, I have acquired a leaked copy of Rock City’s nine-phase plan. For the sake of public interest, I share that below, unedited:
Phase 1: Preserve Ochs Highway for truck accidents
Although we’re going to do whatever we feel like, based on studies we paid for to tell us what we wanted to hear, it’s important to get buy-in from the community. We cannot simply rely on the “Who cares?” energy of the area’s more reasonable residents. To that end, we must highlight how each phase preserves the area’s most distinguishing traits. For instance, by reducing traffic on Ochs Highway, Rock City will help preserve that thoroughfare’s primary purpose as the site where semitrucks jackknife, knock down guardrails, imperil residents and block traffic on an almost weekly basis. Lookout should remain Lookout, and the gondola will allow that to be Lookout’s problem, not ours.
Phase 2: Ten times more black lights
After spending $40 million on Phase 1, our next initiative will need to make an impact while sticking to a tighter budget. For almost 100 years, we’ve been purchasing creepy gnome statues, painting them glow-in-the-dark colors and weirding out the families of dentists from Akron. Conservative estimates suggest we could 10x our current number of black lights, so that by 2040 the top of Lookout will glow like the aurora borealis and be visible from at least 37 states, providing more awareness than we could ever achieve with our previous strategy of excessive billboards.
Phase 3: Construct the Lovers Leap bungee tower
It’s all about social media these days, and the algorithm loves clips of people jumping off stuff. With this tower and the help of a dozen unpaid interns from UTC, we can gain international visibility as a location where thrill-seekers plunge faster than local property values.
(IN THE NEWS: Lookout Mountain planners who support Rock City gondola explain why)
Phase 4: Purchase the Lookout Mountain Golf Club
Swing Ding is a beloved tradition on the mountain, but that single event, along with a few pickleball tournaments, can’t promise to cover the annual operating costs of a club with an aging membership and a menu on par with the average restaurant in the Atlanta airport. Hence, this project is a prime opportunity to purchase and renovate the club into the Gnome Roam Putt-Putt and Golf-Cart Bumper-Car Extravaganza. As any resident of Lookout knows, golf and driving are best enjoyed while half in the bag. Through a partnership with Chattanooga Whiskey — the unofficial sponsor of Lookout’s most awkward fundraisers — we can ply all visitors with an endless well of drinks and preserve this long-held local pastime. In addition to the purchase of 700 more billboards to promote this initiative, additional publicity will be managed by Waterhouse PR.
Phase 5: Build a Vegas-style wedding chapel
A key component of this project will involve convincing people that it is not a tourist trap but a resource designed to serve students of Covenant College who simply can’t wait till the standard junior year to get married.
Phase 6: Buy the Great Pumpkin
Invented for the sole purpose of bringing joy to children, the Great Pumpkin of Marvin Lane has enchanted Lookout since 1961. But now it’s 2026, and the only way to truly preserve a legacy is by shamelessly commercializing it. There is no better steward for such shameless commercialization than us. (Note to self: Use the word “steward” a lot when talking to the public.)
Phase 7: Design and build the Gift Shop Maze
We cannot forget about our neighbors in Flintstone, who worry Blowing Springs will become a parking lot that brings transients of all kinds to their doorsteps. As a nod to the corn maze that once existed at this location, we will design a Gift Shop Maze that functions like an escape room, keeping all visitors confused and unable to leave without first purchasing three rubber-band guns, a plastic sword and eight pounds of rock candy. This will ensure that patrons simply can’t find the neighboring Flintstone area, and that by the time they finally see an exit, they’re ready to get out of town as fast as possible.
Phase 8: Build the We Will Rock You Amphitheater
It’s clear that Chattanooga loves new stadiums — at least for a few months, until the novelty wears off and all the fly-by-night townhouse developments have been completed. As confirmed by another study that we paid for to validate what we already wanted to do, we will put the “rock” in Rock City and build a 10,000-seat venue where we can host an endless number of Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands. It’s well known that residents of Lookout can get lazy and not want to leave the mountain on Fridays, so with this project we can bring all the chaos and clutter of Nightfall to our neighbors’ back doors.
Phase 9: [Redacted]
[Redacted]
Editor’s note: Although we could not gain access to a file in which Phase 9 was un-redacted, several gnomes have claimed it involves building a data center on Lula Lake in order to “put some of that water to good use.”
Ben Cake is a freelance writer and editor living on Lookout Mountain.
