Along the Maryland and Delaware coastal embayments (Coastal Zone Information Center 1996)

Typically, TJ and I don't run with the crowd, but the beach had been luring us for weeks, and we finally submitted to its call on the long Labor Day weekend -- like pretty much everyone else east of the Mississippi. Luckily, we got an early start on the highway toward the Eastern Shore, so we didn't get held up by too much traffic. Nevertheless, it was almost dark by the time we pulled into the lot of our motel, Seaside Inn, in Fenwick Island, a tiny town on the Delaware-Maryland border at the north end of Ocean City's sprawl.

It was a little late for the full-on, sit-down meal, so we headed to the counter at Ocean Side Pizzeria to order some indulgent vacation food: a cheesesteak for TJ, a pizza sub for me, and onion rings to share (top left). Then we headed three doors down, to Matteo's Salsa Loco, for a nightcap of $2 Natty Lights. The next morning, all bright signs -- the sun, the sand, the chairs -- pointed to the beach (top right). Dogs weren't allowed on the beach a block from our hotel, so we took Sage to Fenwick Island State Park for a stroll among a flurry of fishermen (bottom left). When TJ took one last dip in the local beach before we left town, we realized that many humans were not obedient to the no-dog rule. There were plenty of furry creatures frolicking on the city-beach sand; in the water, TJ and dozens of dolphins did the same (bottom right).

The greatness of a beach vacation is that you can eat breakfast as late as you want. We didn't get around to it until after noon on our first full day. We cruised up the coast to Bethany Beach, where we fought for a parking space so we could head to the family-friendly Frog House Restaurant. TJ fed his need for seafood with a shrimp-salad sandwich, and I acted as if it weren't too late for brunch, with eggs Benedict florentine (left). We walked the planks of the boardwalk before heading farther north to Rehoboth Beach. When we couldn't find a parking spot near Dogfish Head Brewing & Eats, we abandoned ship and headed back south. On our way back, we stumbled upon Mickey's Family Crab Shack, a great all-you-can-eat "seafood dive," where you can play games such as Shut the Box at the bar (I won only once against TJ). We were too full for a platter of crabs, so we opted for a snack of oysters Chesapeake, a version of oysters Rockefeller topped with crab and bacon, and some local beers: Inlet IPA from 16 Mile Brewery and Lot No. 3 IPA from Evolution Craft Brewing Company (right).

On a beach vacation, you can also eat dinner as early as you want, especially when happy-hour and early-bird specials abound. We spent some more time relaxing at the beach before we set off on a happy-hour hunt. Our target location was farther away than expected -- in other words, a longer walk than I wanted to make -- so serendipitously we ended up at Papa Grande's Coastal Taqueria. The tacos and nachos were discounted but authentic, a credit to chef Matt Haley, who had recently died in a motorcycle accident during a humanitarian trip to India. The fish tacos included the subtle touch of sliced radish (left), and the nachos featured cabbage and whole black beans (right).

It was as if we were dining along a Baja California bay, except the view outside was actually an Atlantic inlet (left). But the best deals were definitely found down the road at High Stakes Bar & Grill, where Natty Bo bottles were on sale for $2 because an Orioles game was on. We stayed long enough, watching the game and the bar-surfing characters, that TJ got hungry again. He ordered another cheesesteak because it is the restaurant's specialty. It must've been at least as good as his first because he actually smiled in a photo for once (right). 

The next day, we left Sage at the hotel, so we could head into Assateague Island National Seashore, well-known for its wild horses, which we saw all over the place (top). Some were chilling out on the roadside bike trail, so close that you could touch them (bottom left). I opted for taking some close-ups instead (bottom right), considering the many posted warnings about horse bites, including one photo of a woman getting some horse teeth to her cheek.

Before we headed to the seashore, we had picked up some steamed shrimp and a crabcake sandwich from Bahama Mamas Seafood Outlet, so we could have a picnic seaside (top). The beach was packed with swimmers and parasurfers, but we managed to find a spot with some space away from any neighbors, except one seagull who wouldn't take a hint (bottom left). Heading out after a day of surf and sun, we stopped by the inlet side of the park, where kayakers were coming ashore beside families hunting for crabs and mussels from the pier (bottom right).

By far, our best meal came as a recommendation from a Fenwick Island State Park patron who ran up to show us a photo of her dog, who she thought looked like Sage (the resemblance didn't go much further than the fact that both of them have fur, but oh well). She swore by Captain Mac's Fish House (top left), so we continued our seafood fest there with crab soup, a shrimp-salad sandwich, and their specialty: "bangin' shrimp" (top right). But the best part was something our beach adviser didn't even mention: a bucket of craft brews swilled while watching the sun set over the bay (bottom).

 

We could hardly bear to leave the beach, so we took the long road home, starting with a stop in Berlin. The town, named America's Coolest Small Town by Budget Travel in 2014, is home to the Atlantic Hotel, which was built in 1895 and is supposedly haunted by the ghost of a small girl (top left). It is also home to Burley Oak Brewing Company, which had a welcoming interior (top right). We had Sage in tow, though, so we toughed it out on the sunny patio (bottom left). Sage wisely found some shade while TJ and I sampled a Just the Tip kolsch and Golden Sex Panther saison (bottom right).

We crossed all the way to the west side of the Eastern Shore to visit St. Michaels (top left), where we had a picnic in Muskrat Park (top right). Despite the heat, we took a stroll through the shadows of the many historic buildings in the town, including the Dr. Dodson House, which was built in 1799 and visited in 1877 by Frederick Douglass, who was born in the area (bottom left). Unfortunately, no one was home at Lyon Distilling Company, so we didn't get to take home a bottle of local whiskey (bottom right) -- but at least we have a good reason to go back to the beach soon.