Since arriving here on assignment, Melanie and I have had the opportunity to hone our low-impact transportation skills; we've become more adept at biking, kayaking, and even canoeing. With region offering some much great scenery, we have constantly found ourselves in more and more situations to explore these skills. On one such occasion, Host Our Coast loaded up the car with our tents, sleeping bags, and, most importantly, bikes. We were headed out to Trap Pond for our first Delmarva camping extravaganza.

When we arrived at Trap Pond, which is situated in Laurel, Delaware, we had our pick of the litter in terms of campsites, so after little deliberation and concern, we chose one near the pond. The decision, though great for some, was a bit discerning for us; we enjoy being a bit more remote. Our plot had a Pepsi machine within sight situated right in front of the bathroom/shower/laundry mat for the surrounding sites.

In any case we backed up our car into the spot and began to unload our equipment. Although civilization still reared it's ugly back-lit plastic signs at us, we did have the beautiful pond a spitting distance from our fire pit.

Before the sun was completely gone, we thought it best to explore the park on two wheels.

The trails around Trap Pond really carry the beauty of the place. Out on the dirt, and sometimes narrow, paths the tall cypress trees carry you away. You can easily find yourself skidding out of control in a sandy pit or losing your balance after hitting a rock or branch since it is a challenge to tear your attention away from the natural beauty within arms reach.

As we drifted in and out of sharp turns, down small hills and over smaller logs, we managed to catch sight of a gorgeous owl. It was magnificent looking creature; swooping down between trees crossing right in front in front of us, then perching in a nearby tree.

We scanned the area again without a trace of the bird, so we took off again. Within minutes the winged beast was crossing our path again, almost purposely to flaunt its own grandeur; gray, graceful and completely full of itself.

Before we found ourselves stranded in the sticks, we began our route home. This is when, to our dismay, we stumbled upon the sight more to our liking. Here we found sites that sat farther back in the woods, far way from high-fructose corn syrup vending machines and mechanical washing devices for clothes. Also, cars were not insight, suggesting a needed hike (though not far) to the site in order to use it. There will always be a next time.

After we finished erecting our nylon abode for the night, we began to feel the tug of hunger in our bellies. Then, dread began to set in.

In our excitement to camp again, we left the canoe race bound for camp, forgetting to stop for nourishment along the way. With the torment of mosquitoes starting to ping our skin, we figured the general good store where we checked in might have something for us to eat. So we mounted our aluminum steeds and biked the small distance.

Though they did have an assortment of Chef Boyardee dishes and the workings for smores (and the needed firewood to cook with), they seemed to have nothing that was really striking our fancy. That was until the kind attendant clued us into the interesting detail that Dominos delivers to the campsite.

This might fit right in with the Pepsi machine glowing across the way when we speak of civilization, but this one seemed to silly not to do. Besides, our prior attempts this summer at fishing had been fruitless. If not for the Noid, we might have starved that night.

After our delicious cheese and mushroom pie, and despite ourselves, we went fishing anyway. The sun had was throwing its final rays over the tall cypress surrounding Trap Pond, and we gouging the poor store-bought night crawlers in hopes of our first big catch.

The plastic dock creaked and rocked back in forth as we sat in the violet kissed dusk casting our rods like children without supervision. In the woods behind us unseen creatures sounded their nighttime calls; probably laughs and mockery.

Our rods that night did not feel any bites (though the occasional seaweed would offer a bit of excitement). The real victors of the night went to the bugs of the forest. As if they were plotting their attack right when the light was gone, the mosquitoes rose to power and their bloodlust seemed relentless. They came en masse and were upset about some former sin of mine. They attacked with little remorse, flanking us from all sides, these bugs made sure we would pay for any and all transgressions. If only had I heeded my own advice... (Shameless previous post plug).

With our hooks empty, and our final pints of blood being drained, we decided to call it quits and head back to camp. A fire was built and marshmallows were burnt beyond recognition in true camping fashion. Failed attempts at ghost stories turned to giggling fits that eventually put us to bed.

The next morning, with lumps over our legs and dried blood under our dirty fingernails, we decided to explore the rest of the trails that criss-crossed the park. Once again we climbed onto our bikes and headed out.

The conclusions we drew the day before were nothing but reinforced on our second time out. The mid morning sun leaked through the trees as we cut our bikes in and out of turns, over bridges and over fields and Trap Pond really became alive. We rode for hours through the forest, over sand near the pond, and into the disk golf field to throw around the softball.

Overall, Trap Pond is a brilliant little park with much to offer. If camping with some amenities is what you look for, they have it. If you want more of a rugged experience, they have that as well. But above all, the biking and even kayaking really is what makes this place shine. That...or the Dominoes delivery.