Assateague Island National Seashore
4/18-22/04

Scott Hollingsworth/Dusty Hollingsworth – OC2
Mike McCrea – OC1

This first brothers-in-law trip grew out of unrealized 30-year-old
dreams of an Isle Royale trip. Jobs, marriage, kids and kids on the
way prevented us from fulfilling that long ago dream destination this
time out, and so we settled for a 5 day paddling journey on
Sinepauxent and Chincoteague Bays behind Assateague Island.

Arriving at the Old Ferry Landing at the Assateague Island Nat'l
Seashore, backcountry permits in hand. we were pleased to find the day
warm and nearly windless. Warm is not uncommon thereabouts, nearly
windless is nearly never. Our paddle in to the Pine Tree site 5 miles
south was unexpectedly easy, and certainly none of us anticipated
spending the next 5 days in shorts, tee shirts and Tevas. In hindsight
I'd gladly have traded those two sets of fleece and long underwear I
packed for another 4 pack of Guinness.

With naught but a gentle breeze to forestall our progress we quickly
arrived at the Pine Tree backcountry area, selected the best of the
sites – no one else there, so we had our pick – and once camp was
established headed out to the Atlantic side for a beachwalk.

Traversing the island we noted a peculiar barrier island phenomenon;
although the island is less than a mile across at its widest the
oceanside and bayside weather can often be distinctly different and
the demarcation line between these competing influences abrupt.
Bayside, warm, sunny, winds from the southwest. Oceanside, cool and
misty with an onshore breeze.

An after-sunset reprise of that beachfront hike provided a delightful
sense of visual depravation, with the dunes and beach presenting an
oddly monochromatic landscape under the faint light of the new moon,
the inter-dune flats appearing featureless and alien. I love hiking
with folks who distain flashlights. We soon retired to our campsite,
to a cheery fire of paddled-in oak and to the internal warmth of
single barrel bourbon.

After breaking our fast next morning, with a short order repast of
eggs and bacon hot from the cast iron griddle, Scott and I headed out
with empty canoes to explore the deep gut to our south. This gut,
extending to within a hundred yards of the ocean and aimed directly at
a duneless stretch of beachfront, is an inlet waiting to happen. Thank
Mother Nature for the hurricane of '38 that cut a new inlet between
Assateague and Ocean City; without that watery divide unspoiled
Assateague would today be replete with boardwalk, condominiums,
arcades and drunken teenagers on spring break.

Our paddle up the gut route took us around a duckblind, past an
abandoned hunting lodge and under a plank bridge leading to the lodge.
In a miraculous feat of timing Dusty managed to hike over the bridge,
to the lodge and spend time in the duck blind (no doubt making
bang-bang noises while point his finger skyward) without crossing our
path.

Returning to camp Scott and I were thoroughly trounce by Dusty in a
game of all-terrain Bocci before heading out for an empty boat explore
of the wind protected backwater sloughs to the north. One benefit of
the Pine Tree site is the availability of wind-protected backwater
routes waiting to be explored.

This progging paddle (progging is an eastern shore waterman's term
meaning to wander aimlessly around the fringes of the marsh or swamp,
looking for things useful, interesting or edible) took us back to the
very wedge-a-boat-between-the-bank narrows at the end of a slough and
off afoot in the marsh, following pony and sika deer trails, dancing
around piles of pony poop (the fecal two-step) and thence back the
slough to the wind exposed tip of a bayside peninsula, returning with
a sun bleached pony skull as camp decor.

The route back to camp exposed us for the first time to the familiar
Assateague endeavor of paddling into the teeth of the wind, and Scott
and Dusty made an extraordinarily adept tandem team, with Dusty double
blading in the bow and Scott steering single blade astern. I was
especially impressed that they quickly developed a paddler's eye and
feel for the wind assisted ferry angle, deepwater route selection and
the play of the wind-driven current. Not bad boys, not bad at all.

Returning to camp we tuned in the weather radio to hear the welcoming
news that the wind was forecast to turn 180 degrees tomorrow and
tomorrow only, perfect for our plans to move camp further south to the
Green Run sites.

The Assateague backcountry sites are progressively more difficult to
reach and are laid out to accommodate a progressively smaller number
of visitors. The Tingles Island site is only two miles from the Old
Ferry Landing, along a relatively sheltered route and will accommodate
5 parties or 25 people, whichever comes first (ie if 25 Boy Scouts
hike in that's all she wrote).

The Pine Tree site is 5 miles from the put in, with a few exposed
areas along the route but blessed with numerous leeward sneak routes,
and will likewise accommodate 5/25. Green Run is a 10 mile paddle from
the ferry landing, along a very exposed embayed shoreline, replete
with shallow water sandbars that make low tide paddling nearly
impossible (can you say "Get out and walk") and is good for 3 parties
or 20 people. The Pope Bay site is 13 arduous miles; reachable through
a complex archipelago of channels and islands where the wind driven
current can run strong and map reading is a necessity, limited to 2
parties or 15 people.

Thirteen miles might not sound like much, but I wouldn't recommend
setting out for Pope Bay without good maps, slack winds and lots of
daylight.

Listening to the weather radio in camp and hearing the winds at 20,
gusting to 25 we finally grew a collective brain and moved our "living
room" off the exposed knoll we had first occupied and into a sheltered
hollow behind a large Holly. Sure was nice to finally get out of the
wind. Duh.

Tuesday morning saw a leisurely pack up and out, as the promised
tailwind was late in developing and we eventually launched into a calm
and nearly glasslike bayside, one of perhaps three times I've seen the
Chincoteague Bay flat and windless in 25 years of visits. A little
breeze would have been appreciated, as the sun beat down mercilessly,
no shade to be had in mid-bay. Dusty learned two valuable lessons – 1)
When attempting to apply sunscreen to your face don't forget that you
are wearing sunglasses and liberally smear SPF30 on the lenses and 2)
After smearing sunscreen on your glasses do not remove them and
proceed to rub the residual lotion directly into your eyeballs.

The Green Run site is situated immediately behind another abandoned
hunting lodge, not the most aesthetically pleasing entrance to a
backcountry site, and this is complemented by an expanse of shoe
sucking marsh mud at the launch. The site itself is an open sandy oval
40 yards long by 20 yards wide amid the pines, fine perhaps for a
single party like us but intrusively open for camping with multiple
groups. The sites at both Tingles Island and Pine Tree are much more
scattered and private.

One advantage of Green Run is the proximity to the ocean; close enough
to hear the roar of the surf, close enough to taste the salt spray in
the air, close enough to reach the beach in only a few minutes walk,
which we did, repeatedly. Hiking the inter-dune area here we practiced
our tracking skills, following the trails of mice, fox, raccoon and
sika deer and were interested to discover that numerous raccoon trails
leading out to the surf. I've never seen a raccoon on the beach, but
it must be a veritable smorgasbord of fiddler crabs, dead fish and
other delectable offerings. Either that or there are several deranged
raccoons headed for Europe.

An afternoon empty boat day paddle saw us struggling into a serious
headwind, at low tide, in search of the Pope Bay site. After
encountering several shallow sandbars, necessitating some lengthy walk
the boat, we made it as far as a narrow channel leading towards the
Middlemoor Thorofare. Looking at the current moving through the
channel, the still shallowing water as the tide continued to fall and
the whitecapping waves we wisely abandoned the attempt and elected to
once again prog the marsh edges afoot.

A lengthy prog turned up a sika deer antler and produced a pot of
mussels to supplement dinner when we were struck by the realization
that it was getting foggy. As we paddled back toward the island it got
foggier. Foggier and foggier, until all of the landmarks, peninsulas
and even the treeline disappeared into the gloom. After venturing into
several dead end guts where our camp wasn't this became increasingly
comical and worrisome, especially when we recalled passing the same
duckblind three or four times.

Demonstrating the navigational prowess for which I am oft noted
(overheard on a night float several years ago as I paddled away from
the group for some solo time – said Kathy: "He's going to get lost you
know", replied Joel: "Yeah, but he likes being lost") I led us on a
discombobulated and circuitous route, eventually stumbling onto our
campsite right where I thought it wasn't.

I can only imagine what would have transpired had we continued on
towards Pope Bay, into an archipelago of islands, channels and guts
that is massively confusing even in good weather. As it was I was
haunted by the mental refrain of the Gilligan's Island theme, "A three
hour cruise…a three hour cruise…

Thursday's paddle out was wind driven and effortless as promised. We
covered the first 6 miles in an hour and twenty minutes, and for part
of that we were rafted up and floating. Paddling was as simple as
sticking the canoe on a wave and surfing the miles away.

As we rounded the backside of Tingles Island I espied a familiar hat,
shading a familiar head, stroking into the wind in a familiar kayak.
Paddling pal Vic Chenowith, leading the way on a Duckhead trip. We
encountered his companions Patty, Theresa and Kara loading gear at the
Ferry Landing when we arrived (The Squatter's motto "Not as fast as
they look"). Vic and three women alone on a deserted island for a long
weekend. Vic, you da man!

And so the first brothers-in-law trip was successfully concluded. Fine
weather, fair winds, few bugs, fantastic companions (who didn't seem
to believe me when I told them that every trip isn't this well
favored) - I believe a good time was had by all. Let's do it again
next year.

Post script – Since the boats were still on the van come Sunday we
replaced the Penobscot with Cooper's Tupelo and he and I did a
downriver run. "Cooper's Tupelo" because it was his first full day of
OC1 and he handled the boat beautifully, through rock gardens, a
couple of small drops and numerous tight squeeze moves. We may have
crossed the threshold to being a family of solo boaters.

Time to redesign the roof racks.

Mike -

Thanks for the trip report. Each November I take a group of Boy Scouts from
NJ on a backpacking trip to Asseteague to hike to the Pine Tree site. I've
always wondered what it would be like to paddle in. Sounds better than
hiking in with full gear and water - only problem is with a bunch of young
scouts, I'd be too worried about their paddling amd swimming abilities.
Thanks for sharing your experience.

Sandy K.

"Mike McCrea" wrote in message
om...
Assateague Island National Seashore
4/18-22/04

Scott Hollingsworth/Dusty Hollingsworth - OC2
Mike McCrea - OC1

This first brothers-in-law trip grew out of unrealized 30-year-old
dreams of an Isle Royale trip. Jobs, marriage, kids and kids on the
way prevented us from fulfilling that long ago dream destination this
time out, and so we settled for a 5 day paddling journey on
Sinepauxent and Chincoteague Bays behind Assateague Island.

Arriving at the Old Ferry Landing at the Assateague Island Nat'l
Seashore, backcountry permits in hand. we were pleased to find the day
warm and nearly windless. Warm is not uncommon thereabouts, nearly
windless is nearly never. Our paddle in to the Pine Tree site 5 miles
south was unexpectedly easy, and certainly none of us anticipated
spending the next 5 days in shorts, tee shirts and Tevas. In hindsight
I'd gladly have traded those two sets of fleece and long underwear I
packed for another 4 pack of Guinness.

With naught but a gentle breeze to forestall our progress we quickly
arrived at the Pine Tree backcountry area, selected the best of the
sites - no one else there, so we had our pick - and once camp was
established headed out to the Atlantic side for a beachwalk.

Traversing the island we noted a peculiar barrier island phenomenon;
although the island is less than a mile across at its widest the
oceanside and bayside weather can often be distinctly different and
the demarcation line between these competing influences abrupt.
Bayside, warm, sunny, winds from the southwest. Oceanside, cool and
misty with an onshore breeze.

An after-sunset reprise of that beachfront hike provided a delightful
sense of visual depravation, with the dunes and beach presenting an
oddly monochromatic landscape under the faint light of the new moon,
the inter-dune flats appearing featureless and alien. I love hiking
with folks who distain flashlights. We soon retired to our campsite,
to a cheery fire of paddled-in oak and to the internal warmth of
single barrel bourbon.

After breaking our fast next morning, with a short order repast of
eggs and bacon hot from the cast iron griddle, Scott and I headed out
with empty canoes to explore the deep gut to our south. This gut,
extending to within a hundred yards of the ocean and aimed directly at
a duneless stretch of beachfront, is an inlet waiting to happen. Thank
Mother Nature for the hurricane of '38 that cut a new inlet between
Assateague and Ocean City; without that watery divide unspoiled
Assateague would today be replete with boardwalk, condominiums,
arcades and drunken teenagers on spring break.

Our paddle up the gut route took us around a duckblind, past an
abandoned hunting lodge and under a plank bridge leading to the lodge.
In a miraculous feat of timing Dusty managed to hike over the bridge,
to the lodge and spend time in the duck blind (no doubt making
bang-bang noises while point his finger skyward) without crossing our
path.

Returning to camp Scott and I were thoroughly trounce by Dusty in a
game of all-terrain Bocci before heading out for an empty boat explore
of the wind protected backwater sloughs to the north. One benefit of
the Pine Tree site is the availability of wind-protected backwater
routes waiting to be explored.

This progging paddle (progging is an eastern shore waterman's term
meaning to wander aimlessly around the fringes of the marsh or swamp,
looking for things useful, interesting or edible) took us back to the
very wedge-a-boat-between-the-bank narrows at the end of a slough and
off afoot in the marsh, following pony and sika deer trails, dancing
around piles of pony poop (the fecal two-step) and thence back the
slough to the wind exposed tip of a bayside peninsula, returning with
a sun bleached pony skull as camp decor.

The route back to camp exposed us for the first time to the familiar
Assateague endeavor of paddling into the teeth of the wind, and Scott
and Dusty made an extraordinarily adept tandem team, with Dusty double
blading in the bow and Scott steering single blade astern. I was
especially impressed that they quickly developed a paddler's eye and
feel for the wind assisted ferry angle, deepwater route selection and
the play of the wind-driven current. Not bad boys, not bad at all.

Returning to camp we tuned in the weather radio to hear the welcoming
news that the wind was forecast to turn 180 degrees tomorrow and
tomorrow only, perfect for our plans to move camp further south to the
Green Run sites.

The Assateague backcountry sites are progressively more difficult to
reach and are laid out to accommodate a progressively smaller number
of visitors. The Tingles Island site is only two miles from the Old
Ferry Landing, along a relatively sheltered route and will accommodate
5 parties or 25 people, whichever comes first (ie if 25 Boy Scouts
hike in that's all she wrote).

The Pine Tree site is 5 miles from the put in, with a few exposed
areas along the route but blessed with numerous leeward sneak routes,
and will likewise accommodate 5/25. Green Run is a 10 mile paddle from
the ferry landing, along a very exposed embayed shoreline, replete
with shallow water sandbars that make low tide paddling nearly
impossible (can you say "Get out and walk") and is good for 3 parties
or 20 people. The Pope Bay site is 13 arduous miles; reachable through
a complex archipelago of channels and islands where the wind driven
current can run strong and map reading is a necessity, limited to 2
parties or 15 people.

Thirteen miles might not sound like much, but I wouldn't recommend
setting out for Pope Bay without good maps, slack winds and lots of
daylight.

Listening to the weather radio in camp and hearing the winds at 20,
gusting to 25 we finally grew a collective brain and moved our "living
room" off the exposed knoll we had first occupied and into a sheltered
hollow behind a large Holly. Sure was nice to finally get out of the
wind. Duh.

Tuesday morning saw a leisurely pack up and out, as the promised
tailwind was late in developing and we eventually launched into a calm
and nearly glasslike bayside, one of perhaps three times I've seen the
Chincoteague Bay flat and windless in 25 years of visits. A little
breeze would have been appreciated, as the sun beat down mercilessly,
no shade to be had in mid-bay. Dusty learned two valuable lessons - 1)
When attempting to apply sunscreen to your face don't forget that you
are wearing sunglasses and liberally smear SPF30 on the lenses and 2)
After smearing sunscreen on your glasses do not remove them and
proceed to rub the residual lotion directly into your eyeballs.

The Green Run site is situated immediately behind another abandoned
hunting lodge, not the most aesthetically pleasing entrance to a
backcountry site, and this is complemented by an expanse of shoe
sucking marsh mud at the launch. The site itself is an open sandy oval
40 yards long by 20 yards wide amid the pines, fine perhaps for a
single party like us but intrusively open for camping with multiple
groups. The sites at both Tingles Island and Pine Tree are much more
scattered and private.

One advantage of Green Run is the proximity to the ocean; close enough
to hear the roar of the surf, close enough to taste the salt spray in
the air, close enough to reach the beach in only a few minutes walk,
which we did, repeatedly. Hiking the inter-dune area here we practiced
our tracking skills, following the trails of mice, fox, raccoon and
sika deer and were interested to discover that numerous raccoon trails
leading out to the surf. I've never seen a raccoon on the beach, but
it must be a veritable smorgasbord of fiddler crabs, dead fish and
other delectable offerings. Either that or there are several deranged
raccoons headed for Europe.

An afternoon empty boat day paddle saw us struggling into a serious
headwind, at low tide, in search of the Pope Bay site. After
encountering several shallow sandbars, necessitating some lengthy walk
the boat, we made it as far as a narrow channel leading towards the
Middlemoor Thorofare. Looking at the current moving through the
channel, the still shallowing water as the tide continued to fall and
the whitecapping waves we wisely abandoned the attempt and elected to
once again prog the marsh edges afoot.

A lengthy prog turned up a sika deer antler and produced a pot of
mussels to supplement dinner when we were struck by the realization
that it was getting foggy. As we paddled back toward the island it got
foggier. Foggier and foggier, until all of the landmarks, peninsulas
and even the treeline disappeared into the gloom. After venturing into
several dead end guts where our camp wasn't this became increasingly
comical and worrisome, especially when we recalled passing the same
duckblind three or four times.

Demonstrating the navigational prowess for which I am oft noted
(overheard on a night float several years ago as I paddled away from
the group for some solo time - said Kathy: "He's going to get lost you
know", replied Joel: "Yeah, but he likes being lost") I led us on a
discombobulated and circuitous route, eventually stumbling onto our
campsite right where I thought it wasn't.

I can only imagine what would have transpired had we continued on
towards Pope Bay, into an archipelago of islands, channels and guts
that is massively confusing even in good weather. As it was I was
haunted by the mental refrain of the Gilligan's Island theme, "A three
hour cruise.a three hour cruise.

Thursday's paddle out was wind driven and effortless as promised. We
covered the first 6 miles in an hour and twenty minutes, and for part
of that we were rafted up and floating. Paddling was as simple as
sticking the canoe on a wave and surfing the miles away.

As we rounded the backside of Tingles Island I espied a familiar hat,
shading a familiar head, stroking into the wind in a familiar kayak.
Paddling pal Vic Chenowith, leading the way on a Duckhead trip. We
encountered his companions Patty, Theresa and Kara loading gear at the
Ferry Landing when we arrived (The Squatter's motto "Not as fast as
they look"). Vic and three women alone on a deserted island for a long
weekend. Vic, you da man!

And so the first brothers-in-law trip was successfully concluded. Fine
weather, fair winds, few bugs, fantastic companions (who didn't seem
to believe me when I told them that every trip isn't this well
favored) - I believe a good time was had by all. Let's do it again
next year.

Post script - Since the boats were still on the van come Sunday we
replaced the Penobscot with Cooper's Tupelo and he and I did a
downriver run. "Cooper's Tupelo" because it was his first full day of
OC1 and he handled the boat beautifully, through rock gardens, a
couple of small drops and numerous tight squeeze moves. We may have
crossed the threshold to being a family of solo boaters.

Time to redesign the roof racks.

Sandy,

I've done both the hike in and paddle in many times. They each have
their own peculiar difficulties and challenges.

The bayside is very shallow in most places. While there are occasional
deepwater channels, most of the bayside along the island is less than
2 or 3 feet deep even at high tide. At low tide it can be less than 6"
(sometimes much less), which can make paddling a challenge. And of
course, when the wind blows low water bays generate some seriously
choppy conditions and not having enough water to get a full blade face
submerged just makes things more difficult.

All that said it's usually easier to paddle in than hike in. Have you
thought about having a couple of canoes with a few of the
stronger/more experienced scouts and a trip leader paddle some canoes
in and meet the hikers at Pine Tree. The canoes could be your water
barges.

And perhaps a different subset of Scout paddlers could trade places
and do the paddle out.

Just a thought...


"Sandy K." wrote in message ...
Mike -

Thanks for the trip report. Each November I take a group of Boy Scouts from
NJ on a backpacking trip to Asseteague to hike to the Pine Tree site. I've
always wondered what it would be like to paddle in. Sounds better than
hiking in with full gear and water - only problem is with a bunch of young
scouts, I'd be too worried about their paddling amd swimming abilities.
Thanks for sharing your experience.

Sandy K.

Mike -

We actually had a discussion about how we may change next year's trip just
the other day. One of the things we talked about was filling two 5 gallon
water jugs and seeing if we can talk one of the fishermen, who have a permit
to drive on the beach, to drive the 10 gallons of water the 5 plus miles
down the beach and leave it near the appropriate milemarker. We figure
someone would take us up on it if we offfered $10.... We may give that a
try.

Only a few of us have kayaks - so it wouldn't be fair to those that don't.
The boys really enjoy the hike - it's just that with the young scouts - at
11 or 12 years old, some of them are so small that between the water and
their gear - their pack weighs close to 50% or more of their body weight.
If we can reduce the amount of water, we should be able to get closer to 1/3
of their weight.

Sandy

"Mike McCrea" wrote in message
om...
Sandy,

I've done both the hike in and paddle in many times. They each have
their own peculiar difficulties and challenges.

The bayside is very shallow in most places. While there are occasional
deepwater channels, most of the bayside along the island is less than
2 or 3 feet deep even at high tide. At low tide it can be less than 6"
(sometimes much less), which can make paddling a challenge. And of
course, when the wind blows low water bays generate some seriously
choppy conditions and not having enough water to get a full blade face
submerged just makes things more difficult.

All that said it's usually easier to paddle in than hike in. Have you
thought about having a couple of canoes with a few of the
stronger/more experienced scouts and a trip leader paddle some canoes
in and meet the hikers at Pine Tree. The canoes could be your water
barges.

And perhaps a different subset of Scout paddlers could trade places
and do the paddle out.

Just a thought...


"Sandy K." wrote in message
...
Mike -

Thanks for the trip report. Each November I take a group of Boy Scouts
from
NJ on a backpacking trip to Asseteague to hike to the Pine Tree site.
I've
always wondered what it would be like to paddle in. Sounds better than
hiking in with full gear and water - only problem is with a bunch of
young
scouts, I'd be too worried about their paddling amd swimming abilities.
Thanks for sharing your experience.

Sandy K.

"Sandy K." wrote in message ...

We actually had a discussion about how we may change next year's trip just
the other day. One of the things we talked about was filling two 5 gallon
water jugs and seeing if we can talk one of the fishermen, who have a permit
to drive on the beach, to drive the 10 gallons of water the 5 plus miles
down the beach and leave it near the appropriate milemarker. We figure
someone would take us up on it if we offfered $10.... We may give that a
try.

Don't mention that plan to the Rangers - it's not legal. The
backcountry regulations specifically prohibit having any of your gear
whatsoever brought in by vehicle.


Only a few of us have kayaks - so it wouldn't be fair to those that don't.
The boys really enjoy the hike - it's just that with the young scouts - at
11 or 12 years old, some of them are so small that between the water and
their gear - their pack weighs close to 50% or more of their body weight.
If we can reduce the amount of water, we should be able to get closer to 1/3
of their weight.

Hmmmm - maybe have one adult paddle in a "water barge" kayak so you
can get the smaller boy's pack weights down to a more reasonable
number?

"Mike McCrea" wrote in message
om...
"Sandy K." wrote in message
...

We actually had a discussion about how we may change next year's trip
just
the other day. One of the things we talked about was filling two 5
gallon
water jugs and seeing if we can talk one of the fishermen, who have a
permit
to drive on the beach, to drive the 10 gallons of water the 5 plus miles
down the beach and leave it near the appropriate milemarker. We figure
someone would take us up on it if we offfered $10.... We may give that
a
try.

Don't mention that plan to the Rangers - it's not legal. The
backcountry regulations specifically prohibit having any of your gear
whatsoever brought in by vehicle.


Only a few of us have kayaks - so it wouldn't be fair to those that
don't.
The boys really enjoy the hike - it's just that with the young scouts -
at
11 or 12 years old, some of them are so small that between the water and
their gear - their pack weighs close to 50% or more of their body
weight.
If we can reduce the amount of water, we should be able to get closer to
1/3
of their weight.

Hmmmm - maybe have one adult paddle in a "water barge" kayak so you
can get the smaller boy's pack weights down to a more reasonable
number?

Not a bad idea. Only thing is - Scouts have a rule regarding 2-deep
leadership. We must have a minimum of 2 adults with the boys at all times.
It's done to protect the adults (from improper accusations) as well as
protect the boys (our word vs theirs). If I have enough adult leadership,
it may be a viable option.

Thanks for the idea.

Sandy