Rehoboth Beach, DE...through the Eastern Shore

There is an alleged reverence surrounding the Eastern Shore where..."heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man's habitation..." except for the mosquitoes, foreclosed commercial real estate, and chicken farms. Visit the Eastern Shore of Virginia at http://www.esvatourism.org The Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel pointed us in the direction of Atlantic City, NJ through the peninsular Eastern Shore shared by Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware. Marcy and I visited the touted Assateague Island State Park beyond the city of Chincoteague. Pretty, pretty, pretty good, however my memories of the Eastern Shore will unfortunately include images of the corporate headquarters of Perdue Farms and Tyson Foods in addition to a plethora of chicken farms. What do they do with the feathers? And the chicken shit?

Assateague Island Lighthouse

The Eastern Shore at Assateague Island

Paperback cover to Afternoons in Assateague by Nicholas Sparks

Chincoteague Seafood Shack

Lewes, DE-Cape May, NJ Ferry

Sunrise at Rehoboth Beach, DE

Atlantic City is what it is-Las Vegas on the beach. After a night in Sin City, we backtracked to Rehoboth Beach, DE to attend the Maryland Association of Nurse Anesthetist Annual Fall Meeting. Rehoboth Beach is and continues to be a favorite beach destination.

It was a dumpster fire!

Wake Forest University 12
Florida State University 3

Chevy Rock & Roll 400

Chevy Rock & Roll 400 Start


What's the lap time?


Restart


Emerson Radio 250 Start

Tropical Storm Hanna not only soaked the East Coast but also postponed the anticipated NASCAR Nationwide Emerson Radio 250 and the Sprint Cup Chevy Rock & Roll 400 at Richmond International Raceway until Sunday. That's approximately 500 miles of racing on a three-quarter mile track. And it was spectacular-every wind gust of carbon monoxide laced with aerosolized Good Year tires; the fusion of a thunder clap and an F-18 afterburner that splits your sternum like a maul to pine; that constant melodic roar of 43 engines screaming at 8000 rpms; every militant, sunburned Dale Earnhardt Jr. fanatic that leaped to their feet to salute Jr. with a fist pump and deride Busch with a middle finger (see below). Marcy was seemingly enraptured...for hours. $4.00 Powerades and 4 coats of sunscreen primer.
















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