Nearly all towns have one. That dark, creepy place that everyone has heard about, but nobody dares visit. The kind of place that is discussed with hushed whispers and knowing nods,Nobody dares visit these nefarious places, except teen males armed with a few six-packs of courage, often accompanied by a carload of teen girls they're out to impress. as everyone knows of a friend of a friend of a friend who went there and came back with stories of some unspeakable horror, or never came back at all.

The haunted house on the corner, the secluded, wooded area where witches gather at midnight to sacrifice animals (or worse), the remote field where the KKK meets, or the tunnels inhabited by demons, or albinos. Nobody dares visit these nefarious places, except teen males armed with a few six-packs of courage, often accompanied by a carload of teen girls they're out to impress.

Tucked in a desolate corner of New Jersey is one of these places. It's uncertain when Clinton Road received its reputation, but I was aware of it as a teen growing up some 20 miles away in the early '70s. We'd be at a party doing what teens do when they were able to find someone with an older brother who could cop some brews, when someone would say "Hey, let's drive up to Clinton Rd. I heard...". Before you knew it, a half dozen people would pile into a beat up Vega and head off into the darkness.

What did they expect to find there? If you believe the stories, they went in search of hell hounds, satanic rituals, UFOs, ghosts, albinos, Nazis and the ubiquitous, black pickup truck, which has been chasing carloads of teens along Clinton Road for generations.

The most frequently heard story is that of the pickup truck, which always seems to appear out of nowhere, driverless, with its lights off, causing carloads of terrified joy riders to flee to the relative safety of nearby Route 23. Another tells of the ghost of a young boy who drowned, or died in a traffic accident, depending on who is telling it. If you stop at a certain turn in the road at midnight and throw a quarter off the bridge into the water below, it's said the ghost will toss the quarter back at you. Not far from where the ghost of the boy dwells, the ghost of a young lady dressed in white has been reported floating across the road. Then there is the "hell-hound" with yellow eyes that has caused many a beer-brave college student to stain his under shorts. Other legends regarding Clinton Road involve everything from mobsters dumping bodies, to clandestine KKK meetings in the woods.

What is the real story behind Clinton Road? To many of us this nearly 11 mile stretch of road is simply the access route to some great hiking. It cuts through the center of 34,000 acres of the closest thing to wilderness in northern NJ, with numerous hiking trails that lead to outstanding vistas and scenic, glacial lakes. Hunters and fisherman also frequent the area to take advantage of the large population of bear, deer and wild turkey, as well as smallmouth bass, lake trout and the elusive muskellunge. I've hiked many a mile in the hills surrounding the road and even spent a few nights camped there (illegally) and I've yet to see a hell hound, ghost or anything abnormal.

Because a permit is required for hiking in the surrounding woods, the area is not heavily used and hikers get a sense of seclusion that is rare in this metropolitan area, only some 40 miles from Times Square. Several of the earliest geocaches in NJ were placed around Clinton Rd. and it's now home to close to a dozen caches, all excellent hunts and most involving pleasantly grueling hikes over rugged terrain.

...could it be that there really is something to the legends of Clinton Road? To most adults, the tales of Clinton Road are merely that, tales. We realize that they probably sprouted from the (often inebriated) minds of countless teenagers who made up these stories to explain things they saw along the road. The hell hound was likely a coyote caught in the headlights at the edge of the road, the accounts of satanic rituals might have stemmed from a distant campfire seen through the trees and the ghost stories explained away some of the routine sights and sounds of the forest at night. The famed black pickup truck is probably nothing more than the vehicle of a local who travels the road at night and the UFOs just low flying blimps.

Clinton Road, as I see it, is simply a desolate and exceedingly beautiful place. Or should I say, as I saw it? Earlier this summer I drove to Clinton Road to hide the Weird NJ Rolling Rock moving cache. I placed it by the bridge where the ghost of the boy is said to dwell and I drove away. Shortly after, I heard the rumble associated with a flat tire and pulled over to change it. Upon examining the tire, rather than finding the expected nail imbedded in the tread, I discovered a huge gash in the sidewall. It looked as if someone slashed my tire with a knife, but how did it happen while I was driving at 40 mph? There must be an easy explanation - I'm sure. Or could it be that there really is something to the legends of Clinton Road?