My first time camping illegally

And you *know* I got caught.

Saturday, 26 July: I was all stoked to get to the trails that I had been told about. They are four trails that connect to each other for a combined 101 miles heading east and a bit south of where I was, so that would put me closer to Chicago. I was then planning to head south and catch another east/west trail that would cover another good chunk of distance. I knew that the last trail on the first leg was washed out at the end from flooding, so I wouldn't get to ride the whole way. I also knew that they were mostly surfaced with packed, crushed limestone, rather than being paved, but I was assured that even skinny road bike tires could handle them, so I would be fine. I was able to travel on it, but I was not prepared for how much that surface slowed me down! My speed dropped by at least forty percent, and the tires kept flinging tiny bits of rock into my shoes. If I wanted to take a leisurely day ride in some lovely scenery, this would be a great place to do it, but I wanted to mave a bit faster. In addition, I hadn't realized that there was a trail fee for using Wisconsin State trails. I got off after a few miles and went back to the road. I'm done with the trails in this state. It's weird, but I'm really starting to enjoy riding on highways. They are usually smoother and less hilly than other roads, and generally have a decent shoulder. I can go faster on them and just zone out with my iPod. Don't worry, I always use my rear view mirror, and my headphones let in a lot of noise.

I had to spend a bunch of time after I got off the trail figuring out a whole new route, where did I want to go now, what did I want to see? Once again, Wisconsin had conspired against me, to keep me from making the sort of miles I wanted. You can't always get what you want...

Toward the end of the day, I had to climb a giant hill that went on forever. It was trying to kill me. There is a wayside rest at the top of it, and I didn't have it in me to go further, so I decided the hill was a good excuse to camp illegally, if any official types hassled me. I made dinner and waited until almost dark to put up my tent in an unotrusive spot. Around 12:30 AM, a patrolman woke me. He was super nice about it, but he took my ID and checked me out. I suppose he wanted to be sure I wasn't riding my bicycle away from prison or something. He gave me his card in case anyone messed with me, so that was nice. I'm guessing that I have been noted in some law enforcement system somewhere, and if I camp at any more wayside rests, in Wisconsin at least, they will be more stern with me? He was a county patrolman, not state... I'm not cut out for the criminal life.