11/14/10

The Atlantic! - with a side of Delaware-

Assateague Island National Seashore is about as far east as you can go in the state of Maryland.  In order to get there from the mainland, you have to drive past Annapolis on US 50, pay $2.50 to cross the Bay Bridge over the Chesapeake, and proceed ever eastward.  On this side of the bay Maryland's heritage is increasingly evident.  We passed a milepost sign for Euston, Cambridge, and Salisbury, making me wonder why residents don't also drive on the left-hand side of the road.  Our GPS decided that the quickest way to our destination was via a good chunk of Delaware, so we gave it a try so we could strike it from our list of unvisited states.  Lots of farmland.

Since we'd be arriving to the coast by lunchtime, we stopped in the nearby resort town of Ocean City, which probably has the highest number of mini-golf courses per square mile than any place on Earth.  It also boasts "Ten miles...of bustling boardwalk, a long stretch of beach, hundreds of shops, galleries, rides, restaurants, and much more...".  Ugh.  Since it's the middle of November, Ocean City resembles a very large ghost town, so the main drag of shops and tacky hotels wasn't completely terrible.  Hans had picked out a local diner for brunch and we enjoyed our respective meals of fried clams and pancake fare.

One short drive later we were entering Assateague Island with our National Park Pass (which is now finally starting to pay for itself).  The park's description in our local travel guide says thus: "Surf, sand, and ponies."  Huh?

Their origins are not completely known other than that some time in the 17th century small horses were introduced to the island and have since become wild.  There are two small herds, one on the Virginia side and one of the Maryland side of the island.  The salt marsh grasses they eat cause them to have to drink more water than normal, so they have a fairly bloated appearance.

Upon entering the park we stopped at the first parking area and followed the sound of the roaring Atlantic surf over the sand dunes.



The beach was fantastically desolate.  We spent a good amount of time testing our tolerance of the cold water on our feet and picking up shells.  While Hans wandered about I lay on our blanket with my ear pressed to the ground and listened to the waves as they pounded the beach.  Hans and I agreed that we've found a likely new favorite camping spot.

We drove a short ways to the side of the island that faces Assateague and Chincoteague Bay.  From here you are allowed to fish for blue crab (chicken is apparently the best bait) and catch clams.  I can see a beach-side crab-boil in the future!


Before starting the drive home we stopped at the visitor's center, where there was an amusing leaflet with pictures of horse bites people have sustained while trying to get friendly with the wild ponies.  Apparently they rip their way into tents to steal food too (the ponies, not the people, though I suppose either are almost equally possible).