The boys and I spent the afternoon on a remarkable estuary up north which at ebb tide will occasionally reveal twenty square miles of mud (that’s a smorgasbord! says the bills and beakers) upon the whulge, seemingly far as the eye can see. While they briskly rode bikes-upon-a-dike with bird’s eye views, I ventured hand-in-hand with sore feet and tried to walk with my eyes. Carried my itty-bitty, tiny-sized tripod which screws into the Fuji and often suffices for views from the grass (or mud). We barely beat dark back to the trailhead, Adam let me ride his bike the last quarter of a mile.