The First State
We looked on our map and saw Delaware as our next destination. This state is tiny, only beating out Rhode Island in a state size competition. While small in stature, Delaware was large in rooted history as well as delicious treats. We made our routine morning stop to Planet Fitness before setting out for Dover. Dover shared a lot of similarities with our previous state’s capitol. Brick everywhere, and I mean everywhere. If it could be constructed out of brick, it was. Delaware prides itself on being the first state in the U.S. and it definitely shows that statistic off with its capitol.
I mean, 
A LOT 
of Brick! 
In the true First State fashion.
The first capitol in the first state was very generous! Everywhere we went, we got a souvenir. Here! Have a flag! Take this Delaware State Pennant! Here’s a button you can wear to show off your Delawarean pride! Please take this full collection of commemorative World War 1 era art postcards, and if you try and give me money I will literally burn it, because it is no good here. It was very interesting to read about the history of Delaware, and after a day of walking around this small town, we grew hungry.
We drove past a local pizza joint on our way out and swerved into the parking lot immediately.
MILITARY MONDAYS: 50% OFF ALL PIZZAS FOR VETERANS
Say WHAT now?
Delaware quickly became the frontrunner for best state ever.
We sat down and were treated to a delicious, fluffy Margherita pizza topped with fresh basil, and our souls swooned as they gorged on melted mozzarella and homemade marinara sauce. It was only $7. $7!! It was worth every penny-and we even debated buying a second pie for the road. God Bless you Grotto Pizza, never change.
Grotto’s Pizza 
Mama Grotto Pizza
Wilmington DE is home to the DuPont Black Powder Hagley Museum. The Dupont family took control of the Brandywine River and harnessed it power to manufacture Black powder. The process was as intriguing as it was dangerous. Everything was water powered-to include the machinery used to repair gears and other metal components in large processing machines. They developed a complex leather belt system that would run any drills, keying machines, grinders, and other various metal working tools needed by repairmen efficiently and smoothly. The craziest part of this whole contraption, is that they worked nearly silently. We also received a demonstration of the potency of black powder by one of the tour guides, and it was definitely a blast(dad pun intended). The whole open area museum was amazing, and the tour guides were all engaging and knowledgeable-although a little free spirited in a sense. In McKayla’s words: This whole place is ran by a bunch of Duanes!
The Water Pulley System 
Original Gear Repair Shop 
Black Powder Factory
We began to make our descent towards Cape Lewes, we made a pitstop in Milton to visit the Dogfish Head Brewery. This place was huge! Vats of beer towered over the small visitor center and bar, that sported an outdoor seating area complete with fire pits and bocce ball lanes. A large twisted-metal steampunk treehouse spiraled up out of the ground to greet all those that wished to tasted delicious brews. According to the internet (a very reliable source, I know), a few employees reside inside of it. The beers were delicious, and the tours were closed (noticing a state trend here for the booze tours?), so we headed down south towards the giant highway that connects Cape Lewes and Cape May.
Because that’s a thing, right?
“There is a bridge we can take… Route 9… That’s what the GPS says!”
“Ok… “
“Here, keep going straight, and then turn left in a mile”
“It says the ferry entrance is in a mile…”
“No, that’s wrong, why would they label a ferry as a route? Keep driving until you can turn left and then take that left onto the bridge”
I’ll let the reader take a gander at deciphering who was who in that conversation, but long story short, there’s no damn bridge that connects Cape Lewes and Cape May. The only way between the two ports besides driving back up north and around the bay, is to take a two and a half hour ferry that boards at specific, reserved times. We should have done our research, because we had no idea that this was what needed to be done. I felt like one of those tourists I always saw walking downtown Portland asking, “Is this a Voodoo?” while naively pointing at every bagel shop they could see (DISCLAIMER for all my non-Oregon readers: Portland, OR does not have a lot of bagel shops, so this must have been a very specific instance to highlight the utter stupidity and capture precisely how I felt in this instance). The lady working the counter rolled her eyes as we asked how to get on the ferry, before condescendingly explaining to us how to use the internet to make a reservation online…
“The next ferry is at 7:45, but you should probably get here at 7 so you don’t get confused”
“It’s 5:30, I think we can make it…”
The first person was the toll troll at the ferry gate. The second, literally anyone (but it was me). We had an hour and a half to kill, and the lighthouse 5 minutes down the road was closed for the day, so Mickey and I decided to travel north 20 minutes to Rehoboth Beach: Home of Carolina Reaper ice cream, and World Famous Thrasher french fries. We roll up in Murky Mer just in time for a beautiful sunset. The dying sunlight painted the sky with an assortment of melted sherbert that God lazily drew together and faded out with white on his latest Instagram post (He is literally the best editor ever, go figure). McKayla and I eagerly walked hand-in-hand down the boardwalk towards our destination: The Rehoboth Ice Cream Shop. Subtle, yes, but it does convey a point, I suppose. As we walked past novelty store after novelty store, we notice a repeating trend: All the stores are either closed for the day, or worse, closed for the season. I was optimistic, however, as the website for our ice cream destination stated that they were open until 9 PM. We wholeheartedly hopped along to the end of the boardwalk; the final destination in which our ice cream craving lay.
Yes! The door is open! We rush into the establishment, eager to sample each and every flavor. They have the Reaper ice cream! Today just got wild, I could not wait to melt my face off with something that was supposed to cool you off.
We look for a cashier
Nah
We look for an employee
NAH
We look for literally anyone
nah…
We round the corner of the building to find 3 ladies huddled in a circle, apparently gossipping about the miserable lives they led in their miserable town full of miserable people.
“What are you guys doing in here? We’re closed, please leave”.
“But… your door is open, and it’s only 5:45”.
“We close at 5 during the fall, BYE”.
The pain of rejection always burns more when there’s no ice (cream) to soothe it with…
I know that’s not how you treat a burn, but there’s no metaphor between running a burn under cold water for 2-4 minutes and a savory dessert derived from dairy products and a very spicy pepper, so sue me. Don’t actually sue me though, pls.
We were heartbroken (mainly me), destroyed (again, mostly me). As we sulked down back towards our sometimes-trusty-steed, we stumbled across another one of Grottos LEGENDARY Pizza restaurants! What luck! Heaven exists twice on earth, and we were eternally. Oh wait…
There is no Military Monday special at this location
Oh, ok, thanks.
The sulking continues… Only multiplied by the double betrayal that Rehoboth Hell Beach had bestowed upon us mortal souls. As we trudged along the opposite side of the street, Mickey remained optimistic. She even made me pose along the boardwalk with the beautiful sunset. Hey, I had to do it for the Gram. I couldn’t be too grumpy, today had been a great day, and it wasn’t raining. Oh yeah, Thrashers World Famous French Fries was closed, too. The days seemed all but lost. Then, up in the distance, blurry red and yellow banners solidified into view…
NICOLA PIZZA: HOME OF THE NICO-BOLI
All that was America beamed down on us in neon-lights. Nicola Pizza is a bar/restaurant home to a famous calzone that many-a-former president have become akin to gorging on (George Bush Sr. and Clinton, to name a few). We had both read about this place, but had no idea that it was here. AND IT WAS OPEN. We sprinted into the bar, sat down, and ordered one of their finest Ground Beef Nico-Bolis to share. It was a delicious concoction of ground beef, cheese-whiz, and pizza sauce all wrapped together into a flaky pastry cottage. Thank you Nicola Pizza, never change (Grotto’s Pizza, change a little). With our bellies filled, we headed back to our ferry bound for the land of Guidos.
We made it to our ferry at 7 PM sharp. To much chagrin of the ferry toll troll, we did NOT miss our ferry, go figure. We had an hour to kill, and there was not much to do in the waiting area of the ferry. There was, however, a Pac-Man/Galaga arcade machine. Ask my brother, we beat Galaga on our old Play-Station 2, so you know that your boy is great at Galaga. I slammed in two quarters into the ol’ relic and began blasting alien spaceships.
3 levels in, piece of cake.
4 levels in, still, come on, no contest.
The first bonus round came up, and I began to notice a delay in the blaster button.
Still, easy.
Round 6: Out of the blue, my lil’ Skywalker shooter stops shooting…
Literally. The machine stops responding to the fire button on the control panel, and the rest of my 50 cents was spent dodging out-of-this-world kamikaze pilots while McKayla mashed the FIRE button for all it was worth only to yield on average 1 blast per 30 mashes. We didn’t make it past stage 9, but my word was every stage fought tooth and nail.
It was time for our ferry to depart, so we got back into our lil’ Mer’ Bear and loaded the ship with no issues. We both thought this two hour trip would be a great time to knock out some schoolwork and some blog work.
We was wrong.
Both McKayla and I are very susceptible to seasickness, and low and behold, the ride was choppy and miserable. It was fun trying to decide which between the two of us was turning greener, but that was the only ‘fun’ thing about this trip. We huddled in misery and waited for the suffering to end, until finally, we made it to shore again.
Looking back, it was pretty bizarre how up-and-down Delaware as a state was to us. The Delaware giveth, and the Delaware taketh away. Overall, I really enjoyed our time in Delaware, and even the ‘bad’ parts will make great memories down the road. Until next time, Delaware, tell your shops and restaurants to stay open later, yeesh.
-Daniel-