![]() ![]() And the rock, liberally decorated by teenagers over the years, and possibly with the blood of Don or Dave Sweeney way back when. Needless to say, there’s no official record of such an accident. Quite how he managed the hair and helmet when he was headless is a matter for debate, but a third psychic went as far as to give the presence a name: Don or Dave Sweeney. They even decided it was a man in his early 20s who rode a motorcycle and had curly light brown hair and a gold-painted helmet. The resident, Allene Kane, apparently asked a couple of psychics to visit and they agreed there was a presence there. I was standing on the road when this red light just simply went right by me about three feet away.” “When we see the light coming towards us, he’s returning up the road to turn around, gather speed, and tear down the road and back into the field. “I don’t know why, but there’s definitely something out there, a spirit of some kind,” a local resident told the Port Perry Star in 1988, quoted by Terry Boyle in his book Haunted Ontario Revisited. It’s been spray painted over the years with graffiti but there was nothing legible for us to see, save a crude, faded pentacle.Īpparently, if you park on the road after dark and wait for a while, you’ll see the ghostly headlight of the motorcycle approaching from the south, in the fields up over the rise. We found the rock pretty quickly, with a scattering of Tim Hortons detritus around it and an empty bottle of cheap white zinfandel. The rock is just to the side of Mark’s bike. Here it is – The Missisauga’s Trail, heading north on hard-packed dirt. TV crews have visited, and mediums and spiritualists and teenagers. 7A onto Island Road, ride past Head Road (now that’s ironic) and turn right onto Pine Point Road. It’s not difficult to find the Ghost Road, which is well documented online here, among many other sites. It was a cool day and I made sure to bring extra clothing for her – it would surely be much colder after dark. She was looking forward to a dinner out in Port Perry and agreed in return to hold the camera. My wife came with me on the Harley earlier this month. The potholes will eat your bike for breakfast. They’re not kidding when they say it’s rough, either. There are horse farms and lavender farms and some cottages along the waterfront, but little else. Off the main road, it gets fairly remote. Much of it is native land and there’s a casino there now, which is about the only attraction for non-residents to visit. ![]() In fact, the island is not really an island at all but a 12-kilometre spit that sticks out into Lake Scugog. 7A, which crosses the island’s southern tip on a causeway and links Port Perry to Peterborough. I live about an hour from Scugog Island but never had reason to venture north of Hwy. If there really is a Ghost Rider on the Ghost Road, and I witness the presence, then it’s gotta be true. ![]() But maybe that makes me the best person for this, too. The spirits of the entire slaughtered Fifth Cavalry could be standing right there, on their spirit horses, and I’d probably never notice. Maybe I’m not the best person for a journey to the paranormal, because I don’t believe in ghosts and I don’t have much of a sixth sense. Port Perry is a lovely town on Lake Scugog and well worth an hour’s ride from Toronto. If you’re brave enough to get out of the car, or if you’re on a motorcycle yourself, open to the night, you might hear a voice in the woods, calling to you from another dimension.Ĭool! So I went to the road, to the rock, on my motorcycle, long after dusk. If you’re in a parked car, you might feel the vehicle shake as if rocked by phantom hands. You might see the light of his motorcycle coming toward you on the road, passing at great speed, and the red taillight disappearing into the darkness. If you go to the road at night, strange things are known to happen. Whatever happened, his spirit doesn’t rest. Or maybe he was thrown against the rock at the corner of the junction. He tried to brake but lost control and was thrown from the bike and into a wire fence, which sliced off his head. He rode too fast and the end of the road came up too quickly. Sometime in 1968 – or maybe it was 1958, but a long time ago – a motorcyclist rode his bike down The Mississauga’s Trail on Scugog Island, near Port Perry, Ontario. We’re proud to republish it today, and maybe it will give you shivers all over again… Last Thursday, at the annual awards banquet of the Automobile Journalists Association of Canada (AJAC), Mark was recognized with the 2018 Feature Writing Award presented by Subaru Canada, for this story. Last year, Editor Mark rode his Harley to Port Perry to research this story, which we published for Halloween. ![]()
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