Assateague Island, a thirty-seven mile strip of land along the Maryland coast, is most famous for pristine beaches and wild ponies, but yesterday we uncovered a few other clams, so to speak.

We decided to see the island via our new-found love for cycling. Typically, a day pass is $ 10 USD, however if you enter by foot or bike, you can walk right in, or, in our case, ride right in.

So we parked our car on the far side of the Verrazano Bridge, yes same engineer for the one in New York, and began our voyage to the seashore park. As we made our way across the bridge spanning the Sinepuxent Bay, we found a truly impressive view of the island with Virginia seemingly in sight.

We managed to pull ourselves away and down the other side of the bridge, the sun steadily beating down on our backs. We continued on the neatly laid out bike path directly into the park. Wild ponies grazed calmly a couple feet from our handlebars, but we kept at our pace, only stopping once for a pony that had found itself unknowingly blocking our path, peacefully eating and shaking off the flies or mosquitoes. Beautiful brown and white.

Once past the tollbooths, the road and bike path took on a new feel. The stunted trees leaned in trying to offer some kind of shade, but only seem to exist as a haven for the wildlife. While riding through this barely touched beautiful park, it was hard to fathom why it was almost developed as Ocean Beach, or Ocean City: part II, about a half of a century ago.

After about an hour of pedaling, we rented a clam digger and found ourselves knee deep the marsh of Ferry Landing, an area not too far past the gates. (A narrow wooden walking bridge connects the mainland to smaller islands if you prefer to stay dry while exploring or relaxing.) The muck between our toes felt cool and soft as it oozed onto the tops of our feet.

We dragged our rake along the bottom of the marsh patiently hoping for at least enough clams for one bowl of pasta. Kayaks floated by colored in bright oranges and blues as children and adults alike pulled up their crab cages and strung-up chicken necks.

Although we did catch only a few mussels, we let them live for someone else's meal since we didn't catch enough for ours. Everyone else seemed to be living the same moments without a proper catch and similarly just as content.

We ever so slowly admitted defeat as we moved closer to land, away from the suctioning muck grabbing on our toes. Eventually we were back on our bikes moving on.

On the ride back, past the same ponies, past the same shrubbery, we were much more relaxed as if the island of Assateague had just finished giving us a full body massage.

We didn't have our seafood pasta last night, but at least we came out feeling relaxed and at ease without shelling out a bunch of clams.