“We’re going to start by heading upstream,” guide Kevin Merrill yells as we wade off the embankment and into the icy waters of the French Broad River in North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains.
I assume I’ve misheard him. Most river adventures involve floating with the current, not swimming against it. But on this tour, we’re trying to go deeper into nature.
Within minutes, I’m horizontal, gripping mossy rocks and pulling myself against the push of the cool mountain water, grateful for my five-millimeter-thick wet suit. As I wedge a boot against the riverbed to keep from being swept backward, a school of red-and-orange gilt darters hovers beside my mask. Only then do I realize I’ve been holding my breath.
Merrill pops his head above the surface and waves me over.
I slither across the riverbed and peek below to find a pink-bellied river chub ferrying pebbles one by one in its mouth, dropping each into place in quick succession.
“River chubs are like ecosystem engineers,” Merrill says, explaining that their nests create spawning habitats and shelters that benefit numerous other species in the river system.
Merrill is a biologist and cofounder of Oxbow River Snorkeling, which offers four-hour guided tours through the rivers and streams of western North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains. Equipped with a mask, a snorkel, and a wetsuit, visitors learn to identify fish, amphibians, aquatic insects, and other species. Options range from solo and group excursions to guided canoe-and-snorkel trips. Beyond the thrill of spotting wildlife up close (and cooling down on a hot day), the guided adventures help guests understand the role these animals play in the ecosystem of the French Broad and other regional waterways.
There’s more than just fish in the French Broad River.
Courtesy of VisitNC.com
Many people associate snorkeling with oceans, but rivers can be just as rewarding. More than 50 fish species inhabit these river waters alongside freshwater mussels, native crayfish, and eastern hellbenders—ancient giant salamanders that can survive only in clean, healthy waterways. Their presence is considered one of the strongest indicators of the river’s overall health.
The French Broad, regarded as one of the world’s oldest rivers, is also one of the Southeast’s richest freshwater ecosystems.
“Most people have no idea what we have in these waters,” says Merrill. “Even growing up here, I knew there were minnows and trout, but it wasn’t until college that I learned there was all this diversity.”
Unlike some underwater experiences, river snorkeling requires no certification, specialized equipment, or extensive training. It’s also not a full-day commitment. Visitors can spend a few hours in the water before setting off to discover the trails, waterfalls, and mountain views that draw so many to western North Carolina in the first place.
Oxbow tours also take place throughout North Carolina’s Transylvania and Henderson counties. The region is a 30-minute drive from Asheville. Many travelers choose to base themselves in Brevard, a small mountain town known as the “Land of Waterfalls” and a gateway to some of the region’s best hiking, mountain biking, and fly-fishing.
River chubs move rocks with their mouths to build mounds.
Photo by Griffin Gillespie/Shutterstock
In the water, I finally find my rhythm. I glide over patches of colorful stone, alternating between pushing off rocks with my feet and pulling myself forward with my hands. The learning curve is surprisingly quick.
Within minutes, curiosity begins to guide me.
Clusters of iridescent shiner fish hug the nooks and crannies of the river floor, largely indifferent to my presence. A bright-orange saffron shiner lingers beneath me as I float overhead. Is he wondering about me as much as I’m inspecting him?
Every so often, Merrill motions toward a promising stretch of riverbank. Beneath the right rock could lie the legendary hellbender. Spending much of their lives concealed beneath the river’s boulders, the amphibians ahve shiny, muddy-brown coloring that makes them remarkably difficult to spot. Despite 2025 being Merrill’s record year for hellbender sightings, not one appears during our snorkel. For now, the salamanders remain elusive. The river, however, looks different than when I first arrived. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“We need the next generation to care about our rivers, forests, and public lands,” says Merrill. “[This experience] changes their view of the river. They never look at another stream or cross a bridge without wondering what’s under the surface.”
