Today was supposed to be a slow and easy day, but after three nights of camping in the cold I was stiff and sore and tired. I stopped for lunch in Jennings before heading via back roads to Egan, where my map showed a campground.
When I got to the spot, around 3:30, the campground was gone. I flagged down a local who said it had been there, but it closed. I checked the yellow pages in a nearby restaurant and found two hotels 10 miles farther east. As tempting as the thought was of reducing tomorrow's long ride, it would set me back $60, and besides, I was too tired to ride another 10 miles.
I filled my water bottle at the restaurant and headed to a patch of land I'd noticed while looking for the campground. It belongs to the Acadia County Beagle Club, and I presume it's a training ground for hunting dogs. It was posted No Hunting but not No Trespassing, and there was no fence or gate. I set up camp behind some trees. An hour later, when there was no longer any question of changing plans, some members of the Beagle Club showed up to their other property across the road and started feeding the beagles. I kept a low profile, and they had no idea I was there.