I'd chosen to spend the night in Trappe for a couple of reasons. One was because it was a decent distance from Kent Island. Another was that the next nearest town, Cambridge, was another six miles off, which would have given me a longer day than I wanted. And finally, I found it amusing that my bike shop, Bikesport, was in Trappe, Pennsylvania, and that the two towns came by their odd name in much the same way - from the nickname of a local inn.



That said, there were considerable differences between the two towns. The Pennsylvania town is older, dating to 1717, and very hilly. It also abuts another town, one with a college, and so Trappe PA is abuzz with college students. The Maryland town is flat and rural, just 300 residents, a couple of churches and parks, and one diner, which was closed when I arrived.

I had previous contacted the webmaster for the town and arranged to camp at a nature center a few miles away. However, when I arrived I discovered that there had been some miscomunication between us - the nature center did in fact not have water, and instead of having a combination to unlock the gate, I was told I could "throw my bike over the fence." I was already low on water, and on discovering that neither of the two town parks had working spigots, I began to formulate an alternate plan. In the 2 hours or so I had left of daylight I would knock on church doors and see if they would let me camp in their yard, or at least let me tank up on water. I'd read about other bicycle tourists doing so with success.

As I began to ride down Main Street towards a church, another cyclist pulled up to me. "You wouldn't happen to be from Trappe Pennsylvania, would you?" One of the town councilmen heard about my coming and wanted to greet me. I quickly explained my dilemma, and after discussions with his neighbors and better half I was allowed to camp in his backyard.

Once I set up my tent, I unhooked the trailer and rode off to explore the town. Trappe's most famous citizen is John Franklin "Home Run" Baker, the hero of the 1911 World Series and a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame. One of the town's parks is named in his honor, and he'd probably be proud that the Little League team plays there. His home is one of a number of historic buildings in Trappe.



After a tour of the small town, I rode a mile to a gas station and cleaned up in their mensroom, since I didn't want to disturb my hosts, and then crawled into my tent shortly after my return.