Night33 Clare MI (Coordinates)

n 43 49.199, w 84 46.215
I didn't take a single picture today. I wish I had taken one of the Michigan state trooper who pulled me over. He turned out to be a really friendly and helpful guy. Turned out, because at first he was a mix between amused and exasperated.
''What are you doing?'' he said, as he got out of his car. I had stopped not because I had seen him, but because he pulled up behind me and sounded one of those emergency buzzes.
I told him I was just riding down to Clare, which at this point was only a couple of miles away.
''This is the freeway,'' he said.
''I've just been following Route 10 and it turned into a freeway,'' I said. It was perfectly true. And there were no signs restricting pedestrians or bikes when it happened. He asked where I was coming from. I told him Seattle originally, but today from Ludington.
''You rode from Ludington today?'' he asked. ''That's-''
''95 miles,'' I finished his thought.
He smiled. He sighed. ''I want to get you off the road, bring you to the next exit.'' He could tell by the look on my face that I had not come this far to get a two-mile lift. ''But you probably don't want that,'' he said.
He smiled and chuckled some more, and we talked some about my trip. He said he understood about the commitment and not wanting a ride since he had been riding his motorcycle into work every day, rain or shine. For some reason he couldn't today, and he felt like he had broken a promise with himself.
(Continued)