My first stop was the St. Mary's Cemetery, a rather broad expanse of burial plots set near the border between the towns of Peabody and Salem. This ordinary looking cemetery is supposedly home to numerous spirits, many of whom are the ghosts of the witches who perished during the trials, but also a number of more recent arrivals. Ghostly spirits are purported to have been seen walking the grounds, mysterious sounds have been heard at all odd hours of the day, and unusual circumstances are rumored to have taken place here. Pulling up to the gates, it was clear that this was still an active burial place because several families were just exiting the gate, likely having tended to the burial sites of their families or friend. Realizing this, I made sure to be respectful and keep things fairly quiet to avoid disturbing any other families that might be honoring their dead.
Pulling around a small mausoleum set on a high point in the grounds, I was able to survey my surroundings. The utter absence of noise quickly became eerie as even the sound of the cars on the nearby road had been completely muffled. Peering around, the well-manicured grounds, serene groves of trees, and generally peaceful environs make it easy to overlook that this place is the final resting place for so many souls. However, a sense of eeriness quickly seeded itself into my subconscious and grew larger the longer I stayed. Something just did not feel right, as I stood there, and pretty soon, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. Even if there are no ghosts, and even in the bright mid-day sun, there is something disconcerting about standing in the middle of a cemetery, especially one as old as this. While my rational mind knows that an encounter of any kind is unlikely, the irrational part of my psyche was having a panic attack. Rather than waiting around to see if anything would happen, I hopped back onto the bike and headed off to my next destination.
Winding through the back roads of Salem, I eventually arrived at Witch Hill Road, where I parked the bike in a lot at the base of the hill. Another rider had stopped at the other end of the lot and was on the phone. The rather nondescript parking lot, with a large water tower in the background and overlooking a baseball and softball diamond, is supposedly built on the site where many women tried and convicted as witches were put to death by hanging. Now, not even so much as a plaque adorns the site. According to local residents, however, many strange sightings take place here and odd occurrences continue to manifest here. I hopped off the bike and took out my camera, intent on capturing a panoramic shot of my surroundings. A man walking his dog happened to be strolling by, yes despite the fact that I aimed the camera right at him at least twice when panning for the shot, he managed not to appear in the final photo. Very weird.
Unlike prior trips, the roads which pass between these locations were not particularly interesting for riding, but the many small shops and the proximity to sites such as the Peabody Essex Museum make it a great destination to visit. The history that abounds the area is reason enough to stop in and stay for a few days and the numerous bed and breakfasts make it a great location for couples. Combine that with the great motorcycling roads available just to the north in New Hampshire, the great seaside town of Rockport less than an hour away, and all of that great New England charm, Salem's grim history has now become one of its greatest attractions.
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