Ike reaches up with one hand and grabs the whistling and spiraling orange Nerf Vortex Mega Howler out of the air. Ike tosses it to Jack as we make our way to Flat Rock on Torrey Pines beach on this sunny weekday afternoon. Jack, pretending like he is Tom Brady, zig zags back and forth in the sand eluding imaginary would be tacklers before finally launching the howler back to his waiting brother Ike. Wilhem strolls by himself through the surf’s edge as the cool water rushes up the sand, loses its will, and retreats back to greet the next wave trying to force itself upon the beach.
The rising tide is still low enough that I walk out to Flat Rock without worrying about the cell phone in my pocket getting wet. Flat Rock sits in the ocean about 5 feet from the cliff that curves out towards out to the water. Waves break in front of the rock, split, and then recombine at the back in a violent reunion. I climb up the natural steps to the top of flat rock. The boys follow. Will investigates the bathtub shaped pool etched out of the surface of flat rock and threatens to go sit in it. I have never seen anyone actually get into that pool of anemones and crabs but don’t doubt that he would do it. We watch over the side able to spot a large fish in the clear water working the surf. The boys insist that it is a leopard shark but I don’t get a clear enough view of it to confirm.
On the way back, I stop on the cliff and show the boys the fossilized shells that have been entombed at the base of the cliff for fifty million years. Will finds a piece of kelp. This kelp has a little mesh on one end attached to a forty foot kelp rope terminating into a gas bladder the size of a softball with two fronds that jut out like antlers so that it looks like Will is dragging a deer head through the surf and sand. Another teaching moment, I explain to Will that the mesh at the bottom is the holdfast that anchors the kelp to the bottom and the ball is float that helps the kelp reach to the top of the water. In a moment of mischief, I tell Will that I am sure his mother would love to see this fine discovery. He drags his prize over a half mile through sand and surf to show his mom the prize.
Jack is talking smack and says that he can smoke me in a race. I take off with the howler, running down the beach with Jack in pursuit. I run just fast enough to keep out in front of the speeding youngster. I don’t go into top gear because I am worried about the hamstring that I pulled earlier in the week playing basketball. The youth runs with abandon while I run with trepidation but still keep my lead for thirty or forty yards before the boy gives up the chase but the smack just keeps on coming anyway. I launch the howler the thirty yards back to Ike, who makes another fine one-handed grab.
Throwing and playing and exploring, we finish our hike without so much as a complaint. Well, I don’t think mom is too thrilled with her forty foot piece of sea weed.