When I first started traveling with my son twelve years ago, I purchased a map of the United States from a local Walmart. Excitedly I brought it home and sat my son down at the kitchen table with an awesome idea. I explained the map to him and told him we could visit any of these places and learn a lot about them. I started reading cities and states off to him, and then we looked them up on the internet. He was all in; I had his full attention, and his questions were filled with genuine curiosity. The first trip we picked was Cape May, New Jersey. We loved picking from the map so much, picking vacations like this became normal for us.
After our first summer of picking vacations from a map, many more were born that way. We got to go to different museums in places like Warwick, Rhode Island all the way down to Charleston, South Carolina. We ate Swordfish for the first time. We rode our bikes exploring through the neighborhoods where our hotel or Airbnb was. We ate pizza on different beaches while we tried at least one ice cream parlor in every city we visited. We were having a great time until I learned there was a different kind of vacation. One we had not tried.
Our first camping trip was with a friend of mine that I worked with. We had a great time and I learned so much. My son went fishing with the men and learned how to gut and clean the fish he caught. He learned how to start a fire while I learned how to put up a tent and cook on an open fire. The solidarity of us being in nature, around the silence, and beauty of it all was priceless.
That year I continued to get invited to go camping with that same family, and we kept going. It was fun and new for my son and me. We felt like we were learning survival skills. If the lights and power went out, we knew how to survive. We joked about where we would hunt for food and how we’d cook it. We thought we were professionals.
In March of 2019, I called my son to the kitchen table where I had our large map spread out of the United States. It was time to pick and plan our vacations for the whole summer. For May we picked Charleston, South Carolina. June, we picked Long Beach Island, New Jersey. August, we kept Cape May, New Jersey. I looked at what I had written down in my planner and realized we skipped July. I didn’t want us to pick July’s trip from the map. I wanted to think about it a little bit more. Going to Charleston, South Carolina would be to visit a friend during her graduation from law school. We had visited Long Beach Island the summer before, and my son said he wanted to go back. I picked Cape May, New Jersey because that beach town has a special place in my heart. I always tried to go to Cape May every year when I still lived in the Northeast area of the United States. I didn’t want to pick another beach destination for July, being that we had three picked already. I wanted us to go somewhere different.
The next day while at work, my coworker walked past me and noticed what was on my computer screen. She asked me if I was going camping. I explained that I was. I turned around in my chair to face her and explained that I was looking for a campsite. I asked if she knew any good campsites that were cool. I was hoping that she would know a place. I wanted it to be the coolest of the coolest places. A place that my son and I would never forget. A place that we would hold fondly in our hearts.
My coworker looked at me and asked if I’d ever been to Assateague Island. Intrigued, I told her no and asked where it was. I must admit it sounded exotic. She began to tell me that Assateague Island is a place located in Maryland. There are wild horses that travel back and forth between Assateague and Chincoteague Island. I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. It was all surreal. I no longer heard my coworker, instead I pictured myself camping with my son while horses walked beautifully around us freely. The beach would roar and splash as we talked and laughed. It sounded beautiful and different. I wanted to camp there for our July trip. I pulled my planner out of my work bag that was sitting on the floor under the desk. I opened it to July and picked the dates, July 14-17, 2019. With that settled the next step would be to call the park and rent our campsite.
I hadn’t told my camping friends about my plans to go to Assateague Island so when her name popped up on my phone I couldn’t answer fast enough. I didn’t do what I really wanted to do which was blur it out right away. Instead, I waited for the right time. We talked about our children, work, and the hobbies we were working on. When she started to talk about a camping trip she was thinking of planning that’s when I blurred it out, “I reserved a campsite at Assateague Island.” I could tell she was surprised by her silence. When she finally spoke, she said she knew the place and its history. I excitedly expressed to her that we should all go as a group. She said she would have to reach out to her brother, his wife, and her best friend. All of us went camping together before, so I was even happier at the thought of seeing everyone again. We hung up the phone with her saying she would get back to me. That night as I laid in bed, campfires and wild horses danced around in my head.
My friend called back a few days later with everyone’s reply to their camping invitation. Her brother said he had camped at Assateague before and that it was rough camping. He recommended that we reconsider and camp at a site that wasn’t as rough as Assateague. I told my friend that I didn’t want to do that. I explained that I wanted us to go and experience it for ourselves. Deep within myself, I was sure that I was up for the challenge, and I reassured my friend that.
When July 14 arrived, I was ready. There was nothing anyone could tell me to ruin my day. I was so excited to get to Assateague and see my friends. Not everyone was coming, but my friend, her husband, their two children, and their family dog were coming. That was enough for my son and me.
The drive down from Pennsylvania was beautiful and scenic. It was estimated to take about 6–7 hours according to the GPS. It took us more than 8 hours. We stopped at the bathroom a few times and another time to eat lunch from our cooler that was packed with all sorts of food. When we arrived at roughly 3:00 p.m. I noticed my friend had not arrived with her family yet. I told my son we were the first to arrive and therefore would focus on setting up our tent and canopy.
We started by pulling out our tent and our netted canopy. As we connected poles and fabric together the sun stung our skin. Once the canopy was up, we pulled large rubber totes out of the car that contained cookware and placed them inside. From time to time, I found myself pouring water over our heads to help keep us cool. I was trying to move quickly, but I felt like I wasn’t moving fast enough. My head had started to throb lightly. The sun was testing my endurance by sending its strongest rays down on us, and as if that wasn’t enough, the sun’s rays ricocheted off the sand and headed right back up to us. We were getting a double dose of heat. At one point I wanted to curse the sand for cooperating with the sun. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sand and the beach, but at that moment, in that heat, I didn’t love them. By the time we had both the tent and canopy put together with air mattresses inflated, we were drenched in sweat. My feet burned like they were on fire, the pain unbearable at times. I knew dinner needed to be made but I didn’t have the energy. I told my son to give me at least 15 minutes to get myself together. I laid on the air mattress, sweat pouring from me. I wasn’t lying there long when I heard her familiar voice.
My friend had found our campsite and was standing outside the tent talking to my son. I got up from the air mattress and poked my head out of the tent door. I explained it got too hot and I needed to lay down to rest for a minute. She thought that maybe I was dehydrated. I told her that we were drinking water but maybe it wasn’t enough. She told me that her family had parked their pop-up tent already and her husband was getting the kids ready to go to the beach. She asked if my son and I would meet them there. I agreed and asked her to give us a little time to get our swimsuits on and refill our water bottles. She said she would meet me there as she headed to her truck to drive back to her campsite. Once we changed, we walked over to find them at the beach.
The wild horses were the first thing I saw when I stepped on the beach. I stopped and watched them gallop and play with each other. There were small groups of them randomly around different parts of the beach. They resembled a human family just having a nice day together. The second thing I noticed was the horse manure all over! I was taken aback and thought it was gross. Who is responsible for picking this up? Wait, who would pick it up if these horses were wild and free to do what they want, when they want? The horses have no job they have to report to. They pay no bills. They have no debt. They don’t worry about where they will sleep or what they will eat. They simply just live in the moment; with whatever needs they have at that time. I was suddenly jealous of that freedom. I wondered what it would be like to be that worry free with that much time.
Those thoughts didn’t last long. I began to feel a shooting pain from the sole of my feet up my leg. My feet seemed swollen in certain spots on the bottom of them. I needed to sit quickly. Still in pain, I maneuvered us between piles of horse poop to the spot where my friend was sitting with her family and all of her beach items. After making sure there wasn’t any horse feces where the kids were playing, I let my son play. Meanwhile, I got our beach chairs situated with our towels and other belongings.
Sitting down, I was finally able to examine the soles of my feet. I knew it! I had water blisters. My friend, who is a Nurse Practitioner, saw my feet and said they were burned from the heat and the sand. I stared at my feet and whether it was my imagination or not, I swear I saw the water bubbles swell and fill up before my very eyes. Concerned, I rolled my towel up into a log and rested the back of my ankles on it to help elevate them. Finally situated, I was able to take in the view. The salty wind moved my hair back off my shoulders while the ocean roared with its waves. As beautiful as it was on the beach, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sanitary issues that huge blisters could cause in the sand. Especially sand that has horse poop pretty much everywhere. Not good. I reminded myself to relax and worry about that later because at that moment I was situated and relaxed.
My friend and I began talking about everything and everyone we could think of. We hadn’t seen each other since the year before, and it felt good for us to catch up. We watched our children run around as we sat on our beach chairs. Our eyes also watched the waves as we went back and forth in conversation. When I looked over to her right, I noticed that her husband had gotten very comfortable. His baseball cap was pulled down over his eyes, and soon enough we could hear light snores coming from his direction.
Off to the far right of us was a group of three horses that seemed to be planning something sneaky. They were not close to us, but they were close enough to catch our attention. They were making their way towards us slowly. My friend told the kids to come and stay close.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t take my eyes off of these powerful majestic creatures. I could see the amount of power their legs had by the tightening of their muscles as they causality walked around. They walked on this beach as if they owned it. In fact, they knew they owned it. They had all the confidence and cockiness in the world. The horse in the middle of the three seemed like he was the leader. He began to nod his head up and down as if he was motioning at something. His tail swung back and forth, swatting at the fries. I noticed that the horse to the right had his head very low, close to the sand. Almost as if he was trying to sneak up on something. My eyes followed the direction that had the horse’s attention and I saw her. A woman was sitting in her beach chair with earbuds in her ears. Her back was turned toward the horse. I sat silently and watched. Everything seemed to happen fast. As he got closer to the back of the woman’s head, the horse exposed its white teeth as he opened and closed his mouth around the straw brim of the woman’s hat. Quickly with one swoop, the hat was off the woman’s head, and the horse left galloping down the beach with the hat in its mouth. The woman was shocked when she realized what happened. Her two hands automatically rushed up to her head. She looked around at the horse, then looked at us, and then back at the horse to only see her hat in its mouth. As rude as it may have been, we couldn’t help but giggle. The scenario could have turned out a whole lot worse. I think the fact that the woman did not know how close the horse was to her helped the situation turn out positively. For us to sit on the sidelines and watch it all happen was priceless. The woman was able to get her hat back much later, when an older gentleman walked up the beach with it in his hand. He returned it to the nice lady who was still sitting in the same chair.
After the beach, we went back to our individual campsites to cook dinner before turning in for the night. We vowed to meet up in the morning. My son helped me cook as we were really hungry and apparently so were the mosquitoes and horseflies. It was bad and some of them were huge and would leave nasty blood splats on my arm when I swatted them with my hand. We had bug spray, bug repellent sticks that smoked, and citronella candles galore. We tried everything to be able to eat outside. My son wanted to make a fire and roast marshmallows. I didn’t see how we could do that and be comfortable. We couldn’t enjoy ourselves at all. We tossed and turned all night. No one got any sleep and I couldn’t figure out how the bugs kept getting into our tent.
Once morning came, it seemed like the horseflies and mosquitoes had settled down. The sun had just risen, and it was perfect to sit back and enjoy the morning. I made a piping hot cup of coffee and got comfortable with a book on my camping chair. I was relaxed enough that I believed this day was going to be better. I wanted nothing more than for us to enjoy ourselves despite the negatives.
My feet were still so full of blisters; the pain would shoot up my legs, making it hard to walk. I made breakfast in a sitting position on our camping stove. The smell of eggs and turkey bacon filled the air as I heard yelling coming from other campsites nearby. I could hear the horses. As beautiful as they were, I was hoping that they would not come to our campsite. They would bring more mosquitoes and horseflies with them. I was sure of it. I was also too hungry and too tired to fight with them for food. My son finished cooking our breakfast for us while I guided him through it. He could see my pain and wanted to help. Thankfully no horses came, and we ate our breakfast in peace. Afterwards, we crawled back into the tent so I could take a nap while my son played his Nintendo Switch.
Eventually my friend came back looking for us. I forgot to ask for her campsite number so that I could find her on the map. It would have been an attempt, even if I got lost, to find my friend and her family. Instead, I neglected our friendship, and my friend came looking for me again. I was so grateful to have a friend that understands my air-headedness and doesn’t even mention it.
I followed her to their campsite where her family was waiting. She was going to start cooking dinner and had invited us over. I was so glad because I wasn’t going to have to cook and I wasn’t going to be alone if I heard the horses again. I wasn’t scared, but the horses were a bit intimidating with their height and strength. I hoped that this was it, we were going to make up for all the bad and we were going to be able to have a good time and relax. I also hoped there wouldn’t be as many bugs at her campsite.
I sat at the picnic table while my friend hustled and bustled all around her campsite preparing dinner. I knew that if I offered help, she would refuse, as she’s always done on every other camping trip we went on together. While she cooked, we talked about our night. We both had horror stories. I couldn’t help but think, Man, this trip is not turning out so good. Could this night make up for last night? Again I was really trying to stay hopeful.
My friend had reminded me about our previous conversation where her brother told her this was probably not a good place to go camping. He stated that the climate was rough. It’s for expert campers. I had been the one that had chosen not to listen. My friend came with me merely to keep me company, but also because I was so inexperienced. I don’t think she wanted me to do it alone. To this day, I am very grateful to her and her family for being there with us.
My friend had started cutting up vegetables while eyeing her pot that was cooking on her camping stove. We continued to talk as she cooked. As the sun went down, it seemed like the bugs increased by the second. I was annoyed, and so was my friend. We both tried to enjoy ourselves. The kids came hustling over at the sight of horses coming our way. We kept our voices low; my friend told everyone to stay in view of her, and that no one should make any sudden movements. The horses came into our view from the road that splits the RV side, from the tent campers. They left no campsite unturned. They walked up, ate what they wanted, and left for the next one. I was dumbfounded and sat frozen watching them. Meanwhile, my friend kept cutting vegetables as if these horses were not headed our way.
This continued to go on with the horses until they walked up to our campsite. One came up behind me and sniffed my hair, sending a cold chill down my spine. I’m sure the horse could smell the fear. The other horse went directly to my friend. He sniffed around her and watched what she was doing as she continued cutting her vegetables. I asked her, “Aren’t you going to stop?” Her reply simply was, “No, I’m going to finish my vegetables for our dinner, and these horses are not going to stop me.” I was astonished to watch these horses come up onto our campsite like this. The one that was near my friend went under her arm as she was cutting the carrots to sniff them. My friend yelled at the horse while continuing to cut vegetables without missing a beat. The horse moved its head out when she yelled but returned under her arm quickly and snatched a slice of the carrot that she had just cut up. The one that had sniffed me came all the way around to the cooler and lifted the lid with its nose. My friend raised the knife in the air and started yelling. So, I started yelling at the horse in the cooler. The horses got all excited; they began making noises and stomping the ground. My heart was racing as I just knew that we had done too much. I didn’t know what to do so I just stayed still. The whole time my friend kept yelling while I just held my breath and prayed that they would not hurt anyone because of us yelling. The horses never came to hurt us. They just wanted food. I understood that but they still were wild unpredictable animals. My friend continued to cut the carrots up. She didn’t care that they were there, and the horse didn’t care that she was there. I was able to breathe again when the horses finally backed off. They headed directly to the next campsite. We started yelling to warn them that the horses were coming.
My friend’s husband returned to the campsite after that event took place. He showed up with firewood for the night’s campfire. Her two kids ran up to their dad and told them what happened. Shocked, he asked if everyone was okay, and we all replied yes. I told him how brave his wife was at protecting her vegetables. He laughed, saying that’s what made his baby the best cook. He kissed his wife on the forehead. I smiled as I watched my loving friends.
We tried so hard to enjoy the campfire that night. It was impossible. The bugs were so bad; nothing worked to keep them away. We enjoyed the snack that my friend had made for us before we all turned in for the night. My son had wanted to stay longer with the kids, but I told him we needed to go. We had already decided, as a group, that we had had enough, and we were leaving early. We packed up the next morning, and we were on the road back home before lunchtime.
Overall, this vacation was unique. The wild horses added mystery and wonder to the trip. The horseflies and mosquitoes were the worst ever. My professional camping friends were the best at hanging out and supporting my decision to break the number one rule in the professional camper’s manual. What’s that rule you ask? Always listen to the advice of professional, more experienced campers! I told my friend to be sure to let her brother know that I learned my lesson and next time; I would listen to the experienced camper.
M.C. Addington 