In 1991, early one morning on the Dublin Road heading towards the airport, a man commuting to work saw a young woman dressed in early twentieth century clothing pedalling an old-fashioned bicycle across the road in front of him. The vision ended as suddenly as it began.
When he reached the place where she should have crossed he realised it could not have happened. The hedgerows were solid with no gap, and behind them the land was deeply ploughed and crossed by deep ditches. He was adamant about what he saw. Over the years people have suggested a spectral rider, a memory of a forgotten local tragedy or a waking reverie. The woman has never been identified.
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