We drove the 1 ½ hours to the Virginia end of Assateague Island in hopes of seeing so many more wild ponies. But I was secretly concerned after we spoke with the volunteer at the Visitor’s Center. She told us how Tropical Storm Sandy had trashed the fences and the ponies had run rampant all over the Nature reserve. Well, why not? I thought to myself. I mean aren’t they the whole reason the reserve is here to begin with? As it turns out, the answer is NO. This end of the island is actually dedicated to Sika Deer, the DelMarva Fox Squirrel and a nesting sanctuary for thousands of waterfowl. The Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Department have secure grazing rights for their ponies and the herd is restricted to one end of the island. Knowing this, I thought with 150 ponies in a restricted area, there should be tons of viewing opportunities. We drove onto the reserve and straight to the trailhead that would lead to the pony viewing platform. The Woodland Trail is a paved easy 1 ½ mile loop through a forest devastated by Sandy’s power. Huge 200 foot tall pines were laid over while others were snapped like toothpicks 25-30 feet from the ground. Once out to the platform, my fears were realized although I hadn’t yet been able to voice them. Before us was hundred of acres of brown cord grass and not a single pony in sight. We waited for about 20 minutes but no ponies appeared. We found ourselves headed back to the shady path but somewhat quieter than we had been before. About 15 minutes further down the path was a trampled pathway through the briars and leading to the edge of the cord grass marsh. Our first impression was one of curiosity and the second was of hope. By the time we had reached the edge of the marshy area, Carl had spotted the first pony, a wildly marked brown and white pinto standing on a pine covered hummock about 100 yards from the edge of the 4 strand barbed wire fencing. We could just barely make out one or two more ponies in the shaded brush and trees. The natural camouflage was amazingly effective. We worked our way out to the fence and set up the tripod for my camera. All that commotion got the attention of the pinto who decided those strange creatures near the fence were worth investigation so it slowly came out, nibbling here and there on the grass while the whole while keeping an eye on us. Slowly legs shifted on the hummock until we could see several members of the band. In all, there were 7 and we spent about an hour photographing them until they grazed their way out of range of my lens. On our way back to the trail, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and Carl mentioned how glad he was to find some ponies after having traveled that distance. We had planned to take a short trail named Bivalve off the Woodland trail but as we approached the sign for the turn, I froze. There, in front of me, was a very pregnant pony standing on the pavement about 100 feet in front of me. I grabbed a shot or two as she turned down the trail. I looked at Carl with a big smile on my face but he pointed back towards the sign. There on the path were two more very pregnant mares and they, too, turned down the Bivalve Trail. We slowly followed so as not to spook them. The trail was a mere ¼ mile and ended in Tom’s Cove, a tranquil body of water with a narrow beach running along the shore. It wasn’t the water or sand that had drawn the ponies here however. It was the rich new growth of cord grass about a foot tall. I stood almost transfixed by the sheer beauty of them as they chomped on the succulent shoots. We were so close we could easily hear the sucking sounds their hooves made in the mud as they moved from clump to clump. Their teeth ripped off large mouthfuls at a time and you could hear them chewing slowly, relishing every salty bit. I’ve read the ponies drink twice the fresh water domestic horses drink due to their higher than usual salt intake. Carl asked me about the mares being alone without a stallion for “protection”. And while I don’t have an official answer, I mentioned how some animals leave the herd to give birth alone which also includes that protective stallion. I was more curious about why they were on this side of the fencing and then it occurred to me Sandy had knocked down the fences and the Fire Department Cowboys had missed these three. Maybe there were more roaming around the reserve and we should find them! After 50 or so photos taken of the fat trio, I said goodbye and we returned to the parking area to have a bite of lunch. We drove to the beach and looked around for more pony opportunities. There were dozens of people, fishing, sunbathing, playing in the surf and even a couple flying kites but no ponies. I’ve read they save their beach time for the hot summer months where the breezes and cooling waters help to alleviate some of the bug miseries. Lastly we found ourselves at the Marsh Trail which wanders around one side of the Wildlife Loop, a 3 mile walking bike path that is open to vehicles after 3:00. As we were finishing the last ¼ mile of the Marsh Trail, I spotted a lone pony directly across from us with a large body of water separating us. It was just 3:00 and Carl decided to return the borrowed binoculars to the Visitor’s Center before we drove the loop. And as luck would have it, after returning the binoculars and driving the 3 mile Loop very slowly, it put us in a perfect position to get some beautiful shots of the lone pony, a stallion. I have to believe this is the band stallion for the fat trio of mares. At some point in the near future, they will rejoin him with their foals at their side. I wish I could be there for that moment. All together we saw and photographed 11 individuals from the Chincoteague herd. There were differences even though they are the same. These animals have the benefit of human intervention, health care at least once a year and they are also carrying marks, both brands and adhesive numbers attached to help quickly tell them apart from one another. Although I can’t prove it, I believe these animals are a bit larger and have sleeker coats. I do, however, take exception to the foals being taken from their dams at such an early age, some of them being no more than 3 months of age. But what do I know? They have been rounding them up for more than 70 years and will continue to do so. I’m just thrilled I was able to experience these beautiful animals in their natural home while they still exist. I’m going home a happy camper!
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