I think I have camped in the Haunted Lagoon. According to a local Chincoteague history, it's the campsite near the border of MD and VA on Assateague. You can only get there by boat or hiking. There is a falling down building (something to do with fish processing), a crumbling dock, and a solitary telephone (or electrical???) pole.
I had paddled my kayak all day from the north, at dusk, I was peering into the marsh, looking for the sign to the campsite. I finally found it, paddled through the maze of marsh grass and shallow water, approached the grassy marsh edge by the pole. The Assateague Air Force came out to greet: I threw a wool cloak over me to ward off the mosquitoes, secured the kayak and quickly covered myself in bug spray.
I threw up the tent, and dived inside. It was decidedly creepy; a big empty building lurking nearby, the crumbling dock a shadow against the fiery sunset bay. Stallion piles (poop markers left by the local wild ponies) marked the site, though I never saw a living horse. I fled the next morning, into the water where the mosquitoes could not follow, and did tai chi and ate my breakfast in two feet of shallow bay.
I think I have camped in the Haunted Lagoon. According to a local Chincoteague history, it's the campsite near the border of MD and VA on Assateague. You can only get there by boat or hiking. There is a falling down building (something to do with fish processing), a crumbling dock, and a solitary telephone (or electrical???) pole.
ReplyDeleteI had paddled my kayak all day from the north, at dusk, I was peering into the marsh, looking for the sign to the campsite. I finally found it, paddled through the maze of marsh grass and shallow water, approached the grassy marsh edge by the pole. The Assateague Air Force came out to greet: I threw a wool cloak over me to ward off the mosquitoes, secured the kayak and quickly covered myself in bug spray.
I threw up the tent, and dived inside. It was decidedly creepy; a big empty building lurking nearby, the crumbling dock a shadow against the fiery sunset bay. Stallion piles (poop markers left by the local wild ponies) marked the site, though I never saw a living horse. I fled the next morning, into the water where the mosquitoes could not follow, and did tai chi and ate my breakfast in two feet of shallow bay.
PS: that artist has clearly never seen the Assateague Light!
ReplyDelete