You're walking along a Lake Michigan beach you've strolled for half a century when suddenly you're handed a trespassing ticket. That's exactly what happened to Paul Florsheim, a University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee professor, in summer 2025. His $313 citation in Shorewood, Wisconsin, has sparked a legal battle that could reshape how millions of people access the Great Lakes.

On January 28, 2026, Municipal Court Judge Margo Kirchner found Florsheim guilty. The decision wasn't easy—she even wrote that the century-old precedent she relied on "perhaps should be overruled." But as a lower court judge, her hands were tied. Now Florsheim plans to appeal, potentially taking the case all the way to Wisconsin's Supreme Court.

The Wet Feet Rule

The legal foundation for Florsheim's conviction comes from a 1923 Wisconsin Supreme Court case called Doemel v. Jantz. That decision involved Lake Winnebago, an inland lake, and established what's become known as the "wet feet" rule. Under this interpretation, the public can walk along Wisconsin shores—but only if they literally keep their feet in the water.

Try doing that for more than a few minutes. The rule sounds absurd because it is. Waves crash unpredictably. Water temperatures in the Great Lakes can be dangerously cold. Walking in shallow water for miles isn't just uncomfortable—it's often unsafe.

Florsheim argued he had the right to walk between the water's edge and the ordinary high-water mark. This mark represents where water regularly reaches, leaving visible signs through erosion or vegetation changes. The Wisconsin DNR defines it as showing "a distinct mark either by erosion, destruction of terrestrial vegetation or other easily recognized characteristic."

This strip of land—the zone between the water and the high-water mark—sits at the heart of the dispute.

What Other States Do

Wisconsin stands alone among Great Lakes states in this restrictive interpretation. Both Michigan and Indiana have supreme court decisions explicitly protecting the public's right to walk on Great Lakes beaches above the waterline.

"Wisconsin courts have never decided this issue for the shores of the Great Lakes," explains Melissa Scanlan, Director of UWM's Center for Water Policy. That's the crucial distinction. The 1923 Doemel case involved an inland lake, not one of the massive freshwater seas that define the region's geography and economy.

David Strifling, who directs Marquette Law School's Water Law and Policy Initiative, calls the situation "very relatable." Anyone who's walked a Great Lakes beach has likely crossed this legal gray zone without realizing it.

Ancient Rights, Modern Conflicts

The Public Trust Doctrine traces back to ancient Roman law. The basic principle: governments hold navigable waters in trust for public use. When America adopted this concept, it meant beaches and shorelines belong to everyone, not just wealthy property owners.

But where exactly does "public" end and "private" begin? Most coastal states set the boundary at the mean high tide line. The dry sandy beach above that line is private property. The wet intertidal zone belongs to the public.

The Great Lakes don't have tides in the ocean sense, though water levels do fluctuate. This creates ambiguity. The ordinary high-water mark serves as the boundary, but it's not always obvious where that line falls. And here's the elegant part: as sea levels rise or shorelines erode, the public trust zone moves with them. The protection adapts to changing conditions.

The Equity Problem

Beach access isn't just about property lines and legal doctrines. It's about who gets to enjoy public resources.

The Surfrider Foundation, a coastal conservation organization, declared in 2023 that "beach access is a universal right." But universal access remains far from reality. The organization acknowledges that systemic discrimination and racial inequity have historically prevented Black, Indigenous, and People of Color from accessing beaches.

Multiple barriers exist beyond confusing laws. Beachfront property owners sometimes physically block access points. Harassment tactics discourage people from exercising their rights. "Coastal squeeze"—the combination of rising seas and development pushing inland—reduces the available public space.

When beaches do charge access fees, those costs can exclude lower-income families. Surfrider advocates that any fees should be low and include hardship exemptions. After all, what good is a legal right you can't afford to exercise?

The Florida Warning

Florida's experience shows how quickly public access can erode. In 2018, the state enacted a law protecting coastal property owners' rights. It voided local ordinances that had declared "customary use" of privately owned beaches.

Beach access advocates called it "privatizing the state's most valuable resource." They argued it would undermine Florida's tourism economy, which depends on people actually being able to reach the water. Property owners, meanwhile, worried about liability, property damage, and crowds disturbing their peace.

The conflict reveals a genuine tension. Unlimited public access does create risks for property owners. Injuries on their land could mean lawsuits. Trash and noise affect their quality of life. Some regulations actually discourage property owners from allowing access because they make it nearly impossible to revoke permission later if problems develop.

Looking for Solutions

Rob Lee, senior staff attorney at Midwest Environmental Advocates, thinks Wisconsin needs clarity: "I think it's time for the court to revisit this question and establish clearer guidelines."

Nathan Bayer, Shorewood's village attorney, says the village tried to reach a resolution with Florsheim before the December hearing. They respect his right to create a "test case"—a lawsuit designed to challenge existing law.

Some solutions don't require lawsuits. Governments can fund coastal property acquisitions, creating public parks with guaranteed access. They can negotiate easements—legal agreements giving the public the right to cross private land to reach water. Sharing-economy apps are even emerging to connect people with private landowners willing to allow access to fishing spots or campsites.

Development regulations matter too. Setback requirements that account for sea level rise mean structures can withstand damage without requiring shoreline armoring—those ugly walls and barriers that destroy natural beaches and block access.

What Happens Next

Florsheim's appeal could take years to resolve. If it reaches Wisconsin's Supreme Court, the justices will have to decide whether a 1923 case about an inland lake should govern the Great Lakes in 2026.

The stakes extend beyond one professor's beach walks. Millions of people live near the Great Lakes. Tourism generates billions in economic activity. The lakes themselves are irreplaceable resources—containing 20% of the world's fresh surface water.

Judge Kirchner's reluctant decision highlighted the problem. She followed the law as written while suggesting it should change. That's exactly what appeals courts do—they can overturn outdated precedents when circumstances warrant.

The wet feet rule made limited sense even in 1923. A century later, with climate change raising water levels and development pressuring shorelines, it makes none at all. Wisconsin residents deserve the same beach access rights their neighbors in Michigan and Indiana already enjoy.

The question isn't whether people should be able to walk along the Great Lakes. It's whether Wisconsin will join the 21st century and say so clearly.