Natural Mid-Atlantic : VA Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge at Tom's Cove

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

VA Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge at Tom's Cove

#34 2022 52-Hike Challenge: Tom's Cove and Around the Hook - 6 mi.

After attending the second attempt and successful launch of Antares from NASA's Wallops Island I headed out to the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge (USFWS) and Assateague Island National Seashore (NPS) to watch the sun come up. Sanderlings skittered along the edge of the wash as the tide began to turn. Though there are no designated trails on the long slip of sand and foredune, a ranger said that the walk down to the old U.S. Coast Guard Station on "The Hook" would be a great way to spend the rest of the morning. He was right.

Post-launch sunrise

It took nearly two hours to make the distance from the NPS Visitors Center to the curve of the hook, an arc of sand spit that wraps its way around Tom's Cove. On the way to the Coast Guard Station I followed Brown Pelican pelican tracks, had a nice visit with a Ghost Crab, and generally dawdled my way along the back bay beach (which made this more of a walk that a hike). I had dressed for an early morning launch - long pants, sweatshirt, boots - but by 9am I was starting to sweat as I rounded the hook under a full sun with no chance of shade. I shed my boots and sweatshirt. Whew. Getting warmer...

A small section of the longest barrier island chain in the world!

Ghost Crab, Ocypode quadrata - showing off his feathery legs

I encountered a few more Ghost Crabs sunning on the damp sand. Each one seemed interested in me as I bent down to observe their feathery legs that enables them to absorb moisture from the sand to wet their gills rather than returning to the water. One brave little crab thumped his claw on the ground when I got too close. "That's close enough, human!"

Constant companions were the many Brown Pelicans who would allow me to walk within fifty yards or so then take off in a great wave of heavy flapping, gliding, circling. They would land again several hundred yards ahead only to repeat the process all the way to the end of the inside of the hook. The hook is growing by the year, wheeling around like pelicans until one day it will swing in on itself and capture a bit of the cove as an interior lagoon. All the barrier islands on the Mid-Atlantic are steadily moving west making this landscape one of the most dynamic in our region. Numerous storm surges and rising sea levels are increasing the rate of westward migration and moves massive amounts of near-shore sand currents that reshape and expand the spit landward.

Brown Pelican tracks

Tom's Cove on the inside of the hook

I sat on the pier of the old Coast Guard Station's boat house and had a snack, watching a group of clam diggers work their way around the point into the cove. I could hear the thunk- ka- thunk of quahogs tumbling from net bags into the open outboards. I roamed around the station grounds, but not for too long as the saltwater mosquitos were still hard at work in the sheltered shrubby areas. I followed a wild pony trail out to the narrow isthmus that separated the cove narrowly from the ocean and began my trek back.

USGC Station House 150

Watchtower

Through the front door window

Through the broken window of the workshop

By noon I was finishing my hike and within sight of the parking area, but there was one more stop to make. I visited a small, developing dune to see what plant communities had established on a small hill of quartzite sand. In a scruff of beach grass were several small stands of Seaside Goldenrod, just single stems and tough-as-nails leaves running up thick green stalks. All were in full bloom and sending seed to the wind. A tiny Yellow-Rumped Warbler hopped and skittered around the little dune. Its dull fall plumage blended in perfectly with the tan sand and brown grass. It's little "butter-butt" yellow patch matched the deep yellow of the blossoms.

Seaside Goldenrod, Solidago sempervirens

Wild pony tracks

I walked through an old overwash where a piece of oyster bar lay cemented to what had once been the bottom of a shallow bay. There are over 2,000 barrier islands worldwide and over 300 of them front the Atlantic coast from Long Island to Georgia. Here was a chunk of oyster bar that may have been the root of the dune that formed one of them. Breakers spilled over some shallow sand bars a hundred yards out from the beach. I stood for a few minutes more, looking left at the cove and right to the sea separated by this sliver of sand. My muscles started to stiffen and the sun, now harsh and hot, made me think about all the cold water in the cooler in the truck. I lurched towards the parking lot.