I'm tired of these mf'n snakes in their mf'n heads.

Bull Sluice is the largest, most difficult rapid on Section III of the Chattooga River. It is located near the conclusion of the section about a quarter of a mile above the Highway 76 bridge, one of the few roads that crosses the river. This proximity to a road provides easy access and makes the rapid a popular swimming spot for locals and raft guides alike.

My friends and I would usually hike in on the Georgia side or west bank of the river, a longer hike than the eastern access which led to lower usage of the trail and riverbank there. I use the word riverbank, but at Bull Sluice the western bank is actually a mansion sized boulder named "Big Georgia". It is the perfect spot for sunning after swimming, and for watching the rafters and boaters run through the Class IV/V drops. This last is a popular past-time as the rapid is a frequent provider of flips and swims, having a difficult approach and severe consequences for being off-course. Fortunately, although unforgiving for poor navigation, there is a large pool below the rapid giving plenty of time for rafts and boaters to recover and retrieve their missing crew and the consequences of a swim are generally fairly benign.

One particular summer day, Rats and I decided to take some of our out-of-town guests down for a swim. Jo, Kris, and Anne were up from Tampa and we all wanted to cool off, to drink some beers, and to have some fun. It was a perfect idea and we had an excellent afternoon down by the water. As the day began to wear, we gathered up our things and headed up the trail to Rats's car.

As soon as we emerged into the parking lot, a strange man began walking toward our group and calling to us. The girls began climbing in to the car from the driver's side while my passenger side door remained locked. The man came right up to me.

"Are you going over across the river?" He asked.

"Yes." I replied.

"You can't go over there. They won't let ya."

Puzzled, I said, "Oh, they'll let me. You see, I live over there."

"No!" He shouted. "They got snakes in their heads!"

It was around this time that I became certain that our conversation had run its course and I began frantically pulling at the door handle in hopes Rats would let me in, which she promptly did. I jumped in and we sped out of the gravel parking lot, throwing dust on the man as he chased the car, shouting.

Later, I learned that this man also threw a rock at a car passing on the highway that afternoon , destroying its windshield and terrifying the driver. He had obvious mental problems and, after a fight with his brother and caregiver, had been wandering around for days. I'm certain the authorities provided him the best public mental health care South Carolina has to offer, but he, later that year, was shot and killed by his brother after a fight between them escalated.