After a grueling 9-hour trip, Moe and I finally made it to our campsite on Assateague Island. I may have had something to do with the length of the trip, when I struck up a conversation with a group of older women who were on a bus trip from New Hampshire to Lancaster County and Gettysburg, PA. They were tickled to find out that I grew up nearby. I realized I was parked next to their bus, so invited them to see my camper and meet Moe. Anyway, the lunch stop took a little longer than expected.

Misty of Chincoteague, by Marguerite Henry, may have brought the ponies of Assateague to national attention, but it also multiplied the number of people looking to see/pet/feed and otherwise interfere with the herds of ponies that roam freely on the island. On Assateague, now a National Park, they are quite strict about keeping your distance from the wild horses (really ponies). There is a long list of rules to keep you and the wildlife safe (there are also deer, turkeys, rabbits, etc.). That includes not approaching, petting, feeding or otherwise messing with the ponies, and even stowing your food in horse-safe boxes, much like the bear boxes you see in New England parks.

What they tell you: Stay at least a school bus length away from any pony (that’s the big bus, not the special bus!). They can kick, bite, and charge—especially the stallions. What they don’t tell you: The ponies don’t make it easy! I arrived late, so pulled in to the park office to check my status, and before I could even open my door, two ponies appeared out of nowhere and sauntered across the parking lot right in front of my car.

Found my spot, set up camp, and expired for the night. Tomorrow promises to be beautiful, warm, and breezy.