Downs Road

An unpaved portion of Downs Road between Bethany and Hamden has been closed and abandoned for over a decade. The isolated stretch of road has accumulated numerous ghost stories and paranormal reports.

Deep in the woods between Hamden and Bethany lies one of Connecticut's most infamous haunted roads. Named for Samuel Downs, who settled the area just south of Mad Mare's Hill in 1717, Downs Road was once a busy colonial thoroughfare. But sometime around a century ago, a bypass redirected traffic and left a mile-long stretch abandoned to the forest. Today, this unpaved segment lies gated at both ends, dotted with crumbling stone foundations and overgrown cellar holes—the only evidence that families once called this dark hollow home.

The legends that haunt Downs Road are as varied as they are terrifying. The most famous is the Downs Road Monster, a creature described as a four-to-five-foot-tall yeti-like beast, white as a sheet, that has been spotted sprinting through the trees. Skeptics suggest the monster is merely an albino horse that escaped from a nearby farm—a theory strengthened by the presence of Mad Mare Ridge, named for a "crazy" or "mad" horse. Yet witnesses over the past century describe something far more unsettling than any escaped animal.

The road also attracts sightings of the Melon Heads—bulbous-skulled humanoids common to Connecticut folklore. According to legend, these creatures are either descendants of a colonial family banished for witchcraft and deformed through generations of inbreeding, or escaped patients from Fairfield Hills Hospital whose appearance deteriorated after resorting to cannibalism in the woods. Visitors claim these beings have clawed the sides of parked cars, leaving long scratch marks down the paint, and have chased hikers deep into the forest.

Among the most chilling accounts comes from Elizabeth Sullivan, who visited in September 2005 with friends. They spotted a young boy who appeared injured, riding a bicycle along the road. When they turned their car around to help, the boy had vanished—but his bicycle remained, and they watched in horror as it too faded before their eyes. On another visit, Sullivan and three companions encountered a teenage boy in flannel and jeans carrying what looked like a gun. As they approached, all three witnesses saw the same impossible detail: his eyes glowed an unearthly blue. Local legend holds that a young boy had once committed suicide in these woods, lending tragic context to Sullivan's encounters.

But perhaps the most historical horror connected to Downs Road is the 1847 rampage of Charles Sanford, a 26-year-old Hamden man with a history of institutionalizations and violent outbursts. On New Year's Day, Sanford was seen sharpening an axe and whistling a happy tune. He then made his way to Sperry Falls at the eastern end of Downs Road, where he attacked 70-year-old farmer Enoch Sperry in his sleigh, nearly decapitating him with two blows. Still breathing heavy from the kill, Sanford walked to the home of Ichabod Umberfield at the corner of Brooks and Downs Road. When Umberfield came inside to investigate screams, Sanford attacked him as well. Umberfield's gravestone in nearby Sperry Cemetery bears the chilling epitaph: "Killed by a madman." Sanford was captured, convicted, but never faced the gallows—he died of smallpox in prison. Some locals call him the "real Downs Road Monster."

Modern visitors continue to report disturbing experiences. Maria Case, who has lived in the home closest to the abandoned stretch since 2001, told WTNH News: "As you're walking you can kind of feel the eeriness." She has watched people venture into the woods and come running out in panic. One visitor who explored the road over ten times described rocks being thrown at them from unseen hands, leaves rustling as if someone walked through them, and on one occasion, something child-sized chasing them out of the forest. Others report glowing orbs darting between trees, apparitions that materialize and vanish, overwhelming feelings of dread, and even UFOs hovering over the ridge at the far end of the reservoir.

The property is now owned by the South Central Regional Water Authority, and the Quinnipiac Trail—the oldest in Connecticut's Blue-Blazed Hiking Trail System—runs along the old road. A recreation permit is required to legally explore the area. But as darkness falls over the forest and the crumbling foundations of long-dead families fade into shadow, many hikers have discovered that some permits cannot protect you from what lurks on Downs Road.