June 20, 2010 – Day Forty-four

According to my GPS’s to get to Chincoteague Island, Virginia I have to go south from Williamsburg, go under a tunnel and across a very long bridge near Virginia Beach. I knew that.

But my inner instincts kicked in when we left the Williamsburg KOA and I just naturally headed north. We were immediately stuck in a traffic jam and progress was slow.

After a bit I checked the GPS and it said we had about 300 miles to go!

What???

That’s twice as far as it should be. And then I remembered…south, and then north. We turned around and by the time we got back to our original exit we had lost about an hour’s worth of time.

This was the second time we went through the tunnel near Hampton Roads, where Navy ships dot the horizon and ships of all sizes plow through the water. The first time was a three days ago when we came up here from Kitty Hawk. This tunnel passes under the James River where it empties into the Chesapeake Bay.

And after going through the tunnel we finally headed north crossing a bridge across the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay that’s over 18 miles long. Shades of Key West again.

Our dogs now go to sleep almost instantly when we put them into the truck for the day’s drive. They snooze contently on their oversized pillow that takes up two-thirds of the back seat, not even batting an eyelash when we cross rough, bumpy roads. This has become their way of life. I wonder how they’ll adjust when we get home again.

I headed to Chincoteague Island because of a book I read when I was about 12 or 13 called “Misty of Chincoteague Island”, Marguerite Henry's famous children's novel that tells of a young brother and sister that grew up on Chincoteague Island. They attended the pony swim event and purchased an Assateague wild pony they referred to as "Misty". The children raised money to buy Misty by harvesting clams, which is still a source of income for some Chincoteague residents today. Misty was unique in that she had the markings of a map of the United States on her side. Later in life, Misty lived with Marguerite Henry while Marguerite wrote the book. A Hollywood movie called "Misty" was made which featured the Chincoteague Pony Swim and many residents of Chincoteague Island appeared in that movie.

We had made reservations to stay on Assateague Island where the ponies actually roam free, it’s a national seashore, but the camping is dry camping – no electricity, water or sewage. And since it was still hot we’d have to rely on our generator for air-conditioning, and generator hours are always limited. So we checked on an alternative site on Chincoteague proper.

We drove through Chincoteague to get to Assateague which is a barrier island. But when we got to the park entrance there was a sign that said not pets allowed, not even in cars. The information on the website said that pets were allowed on the campsites.

When I told them that I had a reservation for the campsite, I was kindly told that camping was 90 minutes north of here, and that part of Assateague Island was only accessible via Maryland, near the resort city of Ocean City.

We didn’t feel like driving that much further so we turned around and checked into Tom’s River Campground, which was a huge campground predominately occupied by folks who leave their RV’s there permanently for the season. It was overrun by families.

I was given A-12 as a site, but when I got there, a pick-up truck was in the site, and that’s about all that would fit into it. A couple of the local yokels were out front jawing and when they saw me, they said that no one had camped in this small spot all season. So, I decided to just grab an adjacent site that I could fit into.

After I backed in, I noticed that all the utilities were centrally located so that four RV sites would be able to access them. Fortunately for me, I had extensions for my power and water hose, but they were almost stretched to the limit. My 25’ TV cable connection was the only thing close to the utilities since it is mounted on the back edge of the trailer.

We got everything set-up and I unloaded the bicycles and we drove to the camp office to let them know that we had changed sites. The office is the front of a large camp store, one of the larger ones we’ve encountered. Not only can you find a limited selection of groceries, T-shirts, swimming gear, and knick knacks, but also an extensive selection of fishing gear. I see where these peoples’ priorities are.

 

We left the dogs in the trailer and drove back to Assateague Island to view the wildlife, hoping to catch a glimpse of a pony or two. There’s a figure eight road that runs about five miles through this part of the island’s marshes. It appeared that most of the people there were birdwatchers, since there are many different kinds enjoying the wilderness here.

There are bicycle and hiking trails throughout as well, but we were warned that if we didn’t have a liberal amount of bug repellent on us, we’d be eaten alive. So we mostly stayed in the car, shooting our photos from the protection of the truck cab.

We found no ponies roaming free, but Chincoteague’s volunteer fire department has a few ponies penned up not too far from the road, so I was at least able to get a pony photo.

I did, however, get out of the car to photograph what I believe was a snowy egret catch fish. Nearby was a very dedicated birdwatcher with her camera mounted on a tripod. I just walked up there snapped a half dozen shots and got back into my truck.

The sun was starting to set across our shoulder as we got the eastern edge of the island which serves as the area’s main beach to the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic shoreline is definitely different than the coastline back in North San Diego County, and so far, I like my California coast better.

We drove up and down the ½ mile stretch of beach as folks were heading back to their cars, calling it a day. As we left the beach area we came upon that same lady with her camera firmly on the tripod, still stalking that same bird. That’s a dedicated birdwatcher.

Heading back into town there was a McDonald’s which was beckoning me with its siren call. We hadn’t eaten lunch so I couldn’t resist. Yet here next to their parking lot was another pony pen with a half dozen horses which one could reach out and pet.

Back at the campsite, we watched a little TV, caught up on our Internet duties, and turned in for the night, another full day.