Fat Tires and Wild Horses: Bikepacking Assateague Island National Seashore

On Friday morning August 8th, I sold my Surly Pugsley on Ebay. I got a decent price for it, but I was sweating the shipping pretty badly. Fat bikes do not pack well for shipping. I had set the shipping for the auction at $200 and I had thought this was enough, but it would barely be enough, and that was if it didn't sell to someone in California or Alaska. I held my breath as the auction ended. I sighed in relief when I found out the buyer was located in Bishopville, MD, a mere 5 hour drive from where I live. It would actually be much cheaper to drive it down there. I did a little more research and found out that Bishopville is about 10 miles from Ocean City and Assateague Island respectively. Immediately I started forming plans and packing.

If you are unfamiliar with it, Assateague Island is a barrier island that is split in half by the MD-VA border. There is a small state park on the north end of the island, and the majority of the rest of the island is the Assateague Island National Seashore administered by the National Park Service. The island is famous for it's large population of wild horses and white sand beaches. It has a diverse ecology and is a popular vacation destination, though most people tend to stay towards the north or south ends of the island. Backcountry camping is allowed with a permit at several sites along the seaside and the bay side.

I was excited by the opportunity to go on a bikepacking trip along the ocean. I had read about some epic journeys undertaken on the west coast on some truly remote and unpopulated shores in Oregon and Alaska. I was eager to try such an undertaking on my side of the country. This seemed to be a great opportunity to get out there and explore something new and wild. All paid for by the shipping costs of my auction!

So after contacting my buyer and setting up delivery, I headed into Big Earl's Bicycle Shop where I work and grabbed our large Salsa Mukluk 3 demo. I have an XL 2015 Salsa Mukluk 2 on order, but it isn't in yet. I rushed it home and began fitting up gear to it, as the stock configuration was not going to hack it for me to ride 70 miles of sand. I removed the stock saddle and replaced it with my Brooks B-17 Ti Champion Select. I placed bottle cages on the fork legs and the under the downtube bottle cage mounts. I fitted up my CraterPacks cuben fiber frame bag. It was designed for my  XL El Mariachi Ti, which it fits like a glove, but with a few small tweeks it fit passably on the Mukluk. That was all the wrenching that was required. I quickly ran through the mechanical functions of the bike and it was all in good working order. Then it was time to pack.

The park service recommended a gallon of water per day per person. There is no available freshwater on the island according to the park service. between my 3 bottles, 3L bladder, and 2L bladder, I had 8.something liters. 8.something liters of water is heavy! Between that and the rest of my gear and food, The bike was in the 60 to 70 pound range, and I packed light!

pre-trip test pack, minus food and ground cloth.

Gear list:

Nutrition (funny how that word makes it seem like I didn't survive on glorified candy for 2 days):
8 liters of water (this ended up barely being enough. 9+ liters is safer in the summer for this trip.)
10 packages of ShotBloks (2000 cal)
5 White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Clif Bars (1100 cal)
2 Honey Buns with Icing (1200 cal)
2 packages of beef jerky (600 cal)

 In Seal Line Nimbus Dry Bag:
-Endura lightweight rain jacket (useful as a shield against the bugs)
-Klymit X-Lite sleeping pad
-RAB Survival Zone Lite Bivy
-old lightweight Eureka 2 person tent (but only if you are really good friends with that second person. Amount of friendship required varies with weather conditions.)

In Gas Tank:
-ETON USB Battery Pack
-iPhone 4S
-Garmin eTrex 20
-CygoLight Expillion 800 and extra battery (mounted on bars)
-SPOT Gen 3 PLB (eventually relocated to anything strap, genius! that took long enough to figure out)
-KMC Missing Link 10s
2 16g CO2 cart. and Inflator
Park Tool TB-2 Emergency Tire Boot

In CraterPacks Frame Bag:
Tools and such (full allen wrench set, chainbreaker, superglue, electrical tape, zip ties, magic...)
2 bottles of Stan's No-Tubes sealant
1 Spare fat bike tube
Giant Bicycles mini pump
3L Hydration Bladder
Sunscreen
Big Fucking Can of Bug Spray (super fucking important, can't stress this enough.)
Map
Food

Seatbag:
2L Hydration Bladder
Food
Shorts
Small Towel
Chamois Cream

After I was packed up I went to work Saturday and really had a great day! I sold some bikes, talked cycling, wrenched a little, and generally forgot I was going on little trip till about 2:30 in the afternoon, when I gathered up the last bits I needed and left. I got home and packed the very last minute things I needed and off I went!

Last picture I will ever take of the Pugsley.

I had an uneventful drive to Maryland and dropped the bike off at about 10:00 PM and then headed down to Ocean City to take in the sights and remind myself how much I hate tourist traps. After finding some affordable parking, I took to the beach for a test roll on the sand. When I called ahead to verify that I could indeed legally ride my bike to my campsite with the NPS at Assateague they expressed doubt that even a fat bike would work on the beach there. I chalked this up to ignorance of the capabilities of fat bikes. But the bike was really heavy, and I knew that fat tires are not magic. They still obey the laws of physics and it can be very difficult to push them through extremely soft terrain. I wanted to try for myself before the start of the real adventure. I had a pleasant 4 mile spin down the shore watching the Piping Plovers run back and forth chasing, then running from the surf, lots of wasted people making out, wasted people just being lost, and probably there were some non-wasted people too.

I then made my way off the beach and just cruised around the bike lanes for a while. I will give Ocean City this, they have shared bike/bus lanes, but they don't feel the safest, and the boardwalk is apparently closed to bikes except between 2:00 AM and 10 AM, as I found out from a police officer who was nice enough to not give me a ticket when he saw me at 1:00AM on the boardwalk. I got off the boardwalk and rode back to the 24 hour pizza place, got a pepperoni pie and sat down to watch the fireworks, and by fireworks I mean drunk people. Did I mention there were a ton of drunk people, and my pizza cost over $25.00? Fuck I hate Ocean City. The place has no redeeming qualities.  Everything should just be priced in organs it's so expensive. Parking? That'll be one kidney please. Breakfast? That'll be a liver, thank you. I don't mind spending money if I'm getting something worthwhile for it; my mountain bike cost more than a lot of people would pay for a car. Fer fuck's sake though, all I did there was park, eat some pizza, and get breakfast and I nearly spent $100. The pizza tasted like a cracker with ketchup smeared on it, and that was the worst damn eggs benedict I've ever had. The parking was a good buy. $13 for a place to stay for the night isn't bad. I slept in the back of my jeep. A hotel room probably would have cost me my heart and lungs, and I need those. Ocean City is basically a money black hole where you can go and enjoy sharing your time in a drunken stupor.with others who were dumb enough to get suckered into going there and blowing their vacation fund. Never again. Consumerist hell hole.

I awoke at 5:47 AM in the back of my Jeep and basically rolled out of the back of it, startling a city worker emptying trash cans. I took the bike off the back and rolled up to the boardwalk after explaining fat bikes to the garbage man, since the unique bike was enough to snap him out of the shock of a bearded hobo rolling out of the back of a jeep right next to him. I was looking for a place to take a leak. I rolled up and down the boardwalk and found out there is nowhere to piss legally at the boardwalk in OCMD before 6:00 AM unless you have a hotel room. So while I was waiting I took a few photos of the sunrise.

Then I went and had the aforementioned shit-tastic breakfast. and I was off to Assateague Island. As I was crossing the bridge to the island, I was happy to have water between me and the awfulness of OCMD. I went to the Ranger Station and spoke to them about acquiring permits for camping and the legality of what I was doing. Legally, they said there was no problem with what I wanted to do, but functionally they were concerned. They asked me to go ride from the South Beach parking lot back to the station before they issued me a backcountry camping permit. It probably didn't help that I wanted a permit to camp in the most remote backcountry camp site and I intended to get there in a way they had never seen attempted before. I drove down there and rode back and they issued me my permits to camp at Pope Bay and I was good to go. I had to ride back up to the car and move it back to the north parking lot by the ranger station and I was off.

Legal and Permitted!

The first 2 or 3 miles from the ranger station are public lifeguarded beach. This part of the beach is my least favorite, though going on this trip in August probably exacerbates this problem. It's non-stop dodging of small children. Also, you don't want to stop here unless you REALLY like kids and answering questions. I stopped once to get some food out off my frame bag and I was surrounded by an army of small children in seconds. They think fat bikes are pretty much the best, and fortunately they are correct. Luckily, it's only a short stretch of the shore and then you are in the Over Sand Vehicle (OSV) zone. They issue a limited number of permits for this zone. There are far fewer children in this area, and surprisingly most people just drive to the area closest to the regular beach and hang out as close as they can to the park entrance. I don't get that. If I paid for a OSV permit, I would want to explore as far out as possible before settling for the day, in a nice quiet section of the beach where my people and I could hang out in peace and enjoy the shore together alone. After the very beginning of the OSV zone, the vehicles and people get fewer and farther between, and my enjoyment quotient went up farther and farther. I had seen a few wild horses already, but had not really stopped because of the crowds. I think I understand how the horses feel about tourists. Everyone wanted to gawk at me and invade my space when I stopped too.

Appreciating the wild horses, from a distance.

I felt like I was finally getting away from civilization when saw in the distance a large group of structures of some kind. I kept on pedaling, the shimmering figures getting closer and closer, finally taking shape into recognizable forms. They were off road RV's of all shapes and sizes. I had stumbled upon "the Bullpen," which is the designated area where overnight OSV camping is permitted for people with an overnight fishing permit. It was a small city of people hanging out, camping, and fishing.

The Bullpen

I was quickly past this though and onto a much more deserted section of beach. These last 6 or 7 miles of beach after the bullpen were much more pleasant and I only ran into a few more people out there, and the encounters with OSV folks were less and less frequent, and my encounters with wildlife were more and more frequent.

There were tons of birds once I got away from the crowds. My favorite to watch was Piping Plovers. There is just something about how they charge up chasing the surf back down the beach to get whatever food they can find only to run off, chased away by the next set of waves. Of course. there were more horses.

Of course, of course.

I really started to enjoy things the less I saw other people. I was starting get that feeling of being "out there" around mile 8. The OSV zone started to feel like a friendlier version of Mad Max, as I would ride up on these crazy looking jacked up 4x4's with friendly folks fishing and enjoying the solitude, yet not unhappy to see an interloper on a different sort of crazy contraption traversing the sand. I got a lot of thumbs ups, high fives, and "man that looks like a workout!" when I did run into to people. I waved and said hello to a few groups of hikers, on their way back to civilization, but they all seemed very weary and tired for the most part.

About 1 mile from the state line I finally made it to the entrance to my campsite, Pope Bay, a bay-side campsite, and liberally applied bug spray. I had been warned about the bugs. It seems that if a place is worth bikepacking (winter bikepacking excluded, that's a different set of challenges though), there will be biting insects in biblical plague amounts at least in some part of the journey. Whether it's midges in Scotland, or the baseball sized mosquito of Alaska in the summer. I entered the dunes and was immediately wishing I had brought mosquito face netting and pants. It wasn't just mosquito. It was clouds of them so thick you could feel the resistance as you moved through them. I ate more mosquito in the 5 minutes it took to set up my tent than most Americans probably get bitten by in a decade, and the mosquito had friends. Black flies, horseflies, and these giant versions of horseflies the size of hummingbirds. DEET is awesome stuff. I hardly got any bites but it doesn't stop the flies and mosquitos from swarming and landing on you, they just stop biting. I spent as little time as possible at camp. I setup the tent, threw my seat bag with extra food and water in the vestibule along with my dry bag with my sleeping gear, closed the vestibule and hauled ass out of there towards the state line. The bugs were so aggressive that they followed me out of the marshy bay side and the dunes and about a mile down the beach before they all gave up. Pro-tip: when backcountry camping in the buggy months at Assateague Island, pick an ocean-side campsite. It's still buggy because it's sheltered from the breeze by the dunes, but not nearly as bad as the bay-side.

The MD-VA border is marked by a fence. it's apparently to separate the horse herds. The horses on the VA side are taken care of by the Chincoteague Island Volunteer Fire Company. They are fed and provided vet care and once a year driven across the bay to Chincoteague Island and sold at auction as a fundraiser. The horses on the MD side are allowed to live wild. The population is controlled via a birth control vaccine administered via dart gun by National Park Service personnel to keep the population around 125 horses.

MD-VA Border Fence

"No Undocumented Horses" -a Keystone Rouleur

After crossing this fence the real fun begins. There are no vehicles allowed here on the VA side and you likely won't see a soul. At most a hiker or two, but I saw no one going in either direction until I was at the lifeguarded beach at the far south end. after I crossed the fence, I was undisturbed and alone in the coastal wilderness, just me, the Piping Plovers, the horses, and the wind. I had plenty of time to ponder how much more pleasant this was than my previous night in OCMD. I spent $6 for my camping permit and I was basking in all the serenity and warmth nature had to offer and I only had to share it with a few feral horses and the birds, who frankly, seemed a little annoyed with me. I guess maybe I did a little too much basking, because my back is sunburnt as fuck. Apparently sunscreen needs to be reapplied, and apparently I'm crappy at remembering things like that. Also the backs of my hands...because who remembers to rub sunscreen there? Not me, that's for sure. A Craft summer base layer offers zero UV protection. Lesson learned.

It was amazing being all alone on a pristine white sand beach pedaling for a few hours. It's actually really peaceful and relaxing once you get over the whole "pedaling a bike through sand is hard work" thing. On my way out to the southern tip of the island, the tide went from half way out to half way back in again. This is the prime time for riding when sand conditions are best. The wet sand close to the water is firmest then and the fastest riding. From the time the tide is half way in through high tide and back down to about half way out again is the most difficult time as there is very little wet sand that is firm enough to support your tires without riding in the surf, which is very difficult.

All Time Conditions, AKA Hero Sand.

 I enjoyed the solitude while pedaling the VA seashore, but eventually I got closer to the lifeguarded beach on the south end of the island and I started see people again. I pedaled past the lifeguarded beach to the VA side's OSV zone which is much smaller. I finally made it as far as I could at this time of the year.

Closed to protect the birds that are nesting on the south tip of the island

I then decided to divert off the island briefly for some food and stopped at a little crab shack and got some dinner. I ordered some extra hush puppies to go and got back one with my ride. I went back to the island and checked out a few of the nature trails and explored some of the landmarks on the island.

Assateague Lighthouse

I was excited to ride back with the sun setting and get some more of that awesome alone time on the beach. I stopped and talked to a guy who was packing up some kite surfing gear. He said the wind had been no good that day and he hadn't much luck. I was happy to not have to deal with any of the strong North or South winds he was looking for that could have inhibited my progress. The thought of riding on sand into a strong headwind just doesn't seem like a great time.

The tide had really come back in while I was on my little detour and had dramatically slowed things down.thanks to the extremely soft sand conditions the tide brought with it. This gave me plenty of extra time in the awesome deserted zone as the sun was going down.

It seemed like the sun took forever to set and that was fine with me. It was beautiful watching the sky change colors as the fusion reactor in the sky sunk ever closer to horizon.

It finally sunk below the dunes and an enormous full moon rose out of the ocean.

It was getting dark and I only had a few miles to go to get to the campsite. I had to flip my light on at around the state line. The few vehicles that had been parked near there earlier on the Maryland side were all gone and I pedaled to my camp site. I laid the bug spray on heavy and rode as fast as I could behind the dunes to the site. I leapt off the bike and sprinted to the tent and quickly unzipped it and dove inside, zipping it behind me. I managed to make it in there with only one horsefly and a couple mosquito getting in, which I quickly found and killed. I rolled out my bivy and stuck my sleeping pad in it, crawled in, and fell asleep to the sound of the insects fruitlessly assaulting the outside of my tent.

I woke up the following morning and made a fresh track back towards the start of my journey. I was tired, severely chafed (sand got everywhere, including my chamois, no matter how hard I tried to keep it out.), sore, and hungry. I evacuated the campsite as quickly as possible and pedaled down the beach as fast I could until I lost my six legged, winged pursuers. I then stopped and had my nutritious breakfast of two iced honey buns. On the subject of breakfast pastries, if you are headed down to Assateague Island from Ocean city on the MD side, there is a doughnut shop called the Fractured Prune on 611 that makes gourmet hot doughnuts to order, and you are cheating yourself if you don't stop and try one.

After breakfast I finally figured out how to secure my SPOT tracker to my rig when bikepacking so it had clear view of the sky without buying even more junk. Revelate Designs makes a mesh pouch for them, but I was determined to figure out how to do it without it. I had tried sticking it in a jersey pocket, my gas tank bag, and hanging various places from the included carabiner. Then this elegantly simple solution came to me:

Duh. They really do hold anything!

Salsa anything straps for the win. I love these things. Is there nothing they can't do? The anything cages they came with haven't been too useful to me so far, but the straps themselves have been used to secure things in so many different ways that I doubt I would start any trip without a spare set packed. They are a killer app.

After breakfast I made my way back through the OSV zone and eventually back to the lifeguarded beach on the North side of the island. I hopped off the beach and onto the bike path and just like that it was over. I was ready. The sand and chafing were starting to get really unpleasant and the sun burn was starting to hurt pretty badly. I also missed the peace and quiet of the deserted Virginia section of the shoreline though. I was glad I accomplished my goal of bikepacking the entire Assateague Island National Seashore, and it was a bucket list sort of trip. It appeased and simultaneously strengthened my desire to get out and see America's truely wild spaces on a bicycle. For now though it was time to go home, so I packed up the gear, dropped the top on the jeep, and headed for home.

This was a rewarding trip but there are several things I would do differently if I were to do it again. I would probably try to do this in late fall after a few frosts, to make sure the bugs were all dead. I'll take cold over that mess anytime. Also, the crowds should be non-existent that time of year, making for an even better experience. Gear-wise, I got by fine, but I probably would have brought an extra clean set of bibs and tried to do a better job of managing the sand and keeping it out of undesirable places. Without the bugs, I would not have dove into my tent covered in sand. I doubt I would bother with a geared bike next time. Dinglespeed would be perfect, a high gear for hard packed sand and a low gear for soft loose sand. I would bring a little more water for sure. I'd like to do this outside of bug season with a packraft in the future and packraft out to the campsite on the bay side. I'd also like to explore the back road that apparently exists on the VA side. More of the island would be open as well outside of nesting season, as many sections of the island were off limits for this reason.

I would highly recommend this trip for anyone interested in beach bikepacking, especially in the off season. There are many backcountry campsites at varying distances from the Maryland side ranger station. so the length of your trip could be anything from 5 or 6 miles total to 90+ miles depending on where you decide to explore. The bugs in the summer are really bad and add an additional challenge to any trip, as all of the campsites will have large quantities of them. This location is suitable for everyone from total novice bikepackers to grizzled veterans, the amount of challenge to the trip will be determined by your plan and how you approach it. I hope this trip report inspires some others to get out to this area and try a bikepacking trip. It's really a great way to experience this wonderful place.