Plain Janes

Janes Island State Park, an unassuming Chesapeake retreat, is simply wonderful.

If I'd followed good sense, I never would have gone to Janes Island. I would have planned to spend a weekend in the mountains or at the beach, anyplace away from the island's legendary mosquitoes and their fabled blood lust. I can't say I hadn't been warned.

Fortunately, I didn't let good sense get in the way of a good time.

Here is what I would have missed: a weekend camping on an uninhabited island in the Chesapeake Bay with six miles of sandy beach and no other people in sight, and miles of natural water trails to explore by kayak. And I never would have discovered if the rumors about Janes Island State Park's muscular mosquitoes were true.

On a recent Saturday morning my friends and I were determined to find out. We rented some kayaks and one canoe -- as a barge to transport our gear -- at the park's marina on the mainland and embarked for Janes Island, just off Maryland's Eastern Shore. When we arrived at our campsite we set up our tents between the beach and a small stand of trees. Then we took the kayaks out to explore the island, paddling through the creeks and waterways, or "guts," that intersect 2,900 acres of salt marsh and forest hammocks.

It turned out the island was all ours. Janes Island has only three campsites, which the park opened last year, and on that weekend the other two were empty. Maybe word of these campsites has not yet spread -- or maybe stories of the mosquitoes have kept people away. So far, during the daytime and especially out on the water, the bugs were not biting us much.

You don't have to camp on Janes Island in order to see it. There are also campgrounds and cabins on the mainland by the marina, just across a slender canal from the island, and from there you can spend the day kayaking through the island's 30 miles of marked water trails, see some egrets or canvasback ducks, maybe come upon a muskrat or sea otter. That is how people have visited the island for years.

But staying on the island itself is a different experience. In fact, the solitude and peacefulness of the campsites on Janes Island could very well be the Chesapeake's best-kept secret.

Ironically, it was a park ranger at Janes Island who almost talked me out of going there at all. When I first heard about the island last summer, I called the park for information, and as the ranger described the place, it sounded perfect. Until I asked about the bugs.

"Ever been to Assateague?" he asked me. I told him I had. "Well, our mosquitoes make theirs look like sissies."

Yes, I've hiked Assateague's back country in the summer, when the bugs descend in such density that they seem to be a single being -- a giant, buzzing, bloodthirsty phantasm. I've also canoed in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota, home of 10,000 lakes and 10 quadrillion mosquitoes. Fact or fiction, I decided not to tangle with Janes Island's alleged uber-mosquitoes in the prime of their season (mid-May to September).

Still, the idea of camping on an island in the Chesapeake kept haunting me. So this year some friends and I started making plans. Or better, we devised a defense strategy.

First, we chose to stay at the campsite on the southern end of the island, because it borders the beach and is exposed to the bay breeze -- worse for the bugs, better for us. We brought bug repellent, citronella candles, Tiger Balm -- anything tested, proven or even rumored to keep biting insects away. We packed hats, pants and long-sleeve shirts. Thus prepared to do battle with the bugs, we set out.