RiverGirl Fishing Company

09/16/2026

Who’s winding down with us tonight? Meet at 5:24 pm for a 1.5 hr mid week, de-stress float. Single kayak style…. $25 each…. Must make a reservation. 336-877-3099 Going to be a high of 80 today…. Might have to enjoy one last jump off the rope swing tonight!

09/15/2026

"These guys are great. They were able squeeze our family of 4 in for a next day float. Would definitely recommend them and will use them again!" says John on Google

★★★★★ These guys are great. They were able squeeze our family of 4 in for a next day float. Would definitely recommend them and will use them again!

09/14/2026

"We’ve booked river tubing with RiverGirl Fishing Co. twice this year, and both trips were so much fun and relaxing! Kelly and Renata were the hostesses with the mostest and made sure we had a great experience from start to finish. The river was beautiful, the tubing was relaxing, and it was just a wonderful way to spend the day. We’ll definitely be back!" says Charles on Google

★★★★★ We’ve booked river tubing with RiverGirl Fishing Co. twice this year, and both trips were so much fun and relaxing! Kelly and Renata were the hostesses with the mostest and made sure we had a great experience from start to finish. The river was beautiful, the tubing was relaxing, a...

09/13/2026

Rivergirl Sunshine Sunday

This week, I’m grateful for friendship and all the quiet ways it shows up.

We celebrated birthdays, did things simply because they were fun, and watched a friend decide that this was finally the day she was going to face her fear of heights and ride the Ferris wheel at Tweetsie for the first time. Kelly sat beside her and, every time the wheel crested, held her arm out so she had something steady to reach for. That image has stayed with me all week because friendship so often looks exactly like that. You cannot remove someone else’s fear, but you can sit beside them while they move through it.

It showed up around tables too, in shared meals, laughter, and a server who apparently caught wind of our plans to liberate a few plants and solved the problem by bringing us a bouquet of edible flowers and greens instead. It showed up during our yakisugi wire-brushing party, where we got to teach folks the method, put hands to work together, and watch conversation turn into connection while the char gave way to the grain underneath. There is something about learning a skill together that makes people loosen up. You stop worrying about what to say because everyone is busy doing something, and before long strangers don’t feel quite so strange anymore.

For Kelly’s birthday, friendship also looked like a rare reversal of roles. She got to go fly fishing in new water and, for once, she was not the one guiding, teaching, tying knots, reading everyone else’s mood, or making sure the day ran smoothly. She got to simply show up and be taken care of. I think that mattered more than the fishing itself. When you spend most of your time being the person who carries the day for everyone else, there is something deeply restorative about being allowed to hand that responsibility over for a little while and trust someone else to hold it.

For last minute plans to hang out with friends simply because we missed them. Those moments create some of the best practical yet magical memories.

And tonight, we’ll end the week gathered with friends for a private screening of the Helene documentary by Here For Good Films.

That gathering feels different before we have even stepped into the room. These are not just people we happen to know. They are people tied to a chapter none of us would have chosen, but one we now carry together. Helene rearranged so much, physically and emotionally, and there are certain people you can look at afterward and know they understand without needing the whole story explained. They remember the uncertainty, the exhaustion, the rebuilding, the strange moments of humor, the fear, the relief, and the ways we all kept showing up for one another anyway.

Tonight will be a chance to sit together and watch part of that story reflected back to us. I suspect it will be emotional. I suspect there will be laughter too. Mostly, I think it will be another reminder that some friendships are built through birthdays, meals, learning new things, and play, while others are forged in the middle of something hard and become part of the structure that helps you stand back up.

Maybe that is what I’m most grateful for this week. Not simply having friends, but having people who know when to reach out an arm, when to teach, when to laugh, when to take the weight for a while, and when nothing needs to be said at all.

Who are you grateful to have beside you this week?

09/10/2026

"We had never been river tubing before, so we weren’t quite sure what to expect—but WOW, we are SO glad we chose RiverGirl! 🤩🌊 From start to finish, the entire experience was absolutely amazing. The staff was incredibly friendly, helpful, and welcoming, and they made the whole day so much fun and completely stress-free!

The river was beautiful, the atmosphere was perfect, and we had such a fun time making memories.." says Express on Google

★★★★★ We had never been river tubing before, so we weren’t quite sure what to expect—but WOW, we are SO glad we chose RiverGirl! 🤩🌊 From start to finish, the entire experience was absolutely amazing. The staff was incredibly friendly, helpful, and welcoming, and they made the who...

09/10/2026

Long before RiverGirl had a shop, a fleet of boats, a Mr. Potato Head river gauge, mushroom workshops, river brunches, sunrise floats, full moon floats and an alarming number of things that somehow require a trailer…there was Kelly.

The original RiverGirl.

She’s the one who started taking people fishing and paddling these waters, who built a business around simply wanting to share her passion with…well…everyone! The idea that getting outside could change somebody’s day and who has spent the years since quietly teaching people to look a little closer. At the trout. At the bugs under the rocks. At the changing water. At the trees. At the things most of us walk past without noticing.

She can teach you to cast a fly, identify what the trout are eating, back a trailer into places no trailer has any business going, fix something with whatever happens to be lying around, and calmly remind you that “rocks mean pause and look around” while the rest of us are considerably less calm about the rocks.

Twenty seasons of RiverGirl have Kelly’s fingerprints all over them.

But those of us who know her know RiverGirl is only one piece of her. She is endlessly curious. Fiercely loyal. Happiest outside. Usually building, fixing, planting, fishing, dreaming up the next project or disappearing because she saw something interesting and wandered off to investigate it.

And somehow, after all these years, she still gets genuinely excited when somebody catches their first fish or tears up when a little kid tells her today was their best day ever.

That may be my favorite thing about her. Her unapologetic passion for life and her drive to share it with the world.

So today, help us wish a very Happy Birthday to the woman who started this whole strange, wonderful river adventure.

The OG.
The GOAT.
The Real McCoy.
The RiverGirl.

Happy Birthday, Kelly.

09/08/2026

Stop. Rewind. Reconnect.

We spend a whole lot of time moving forward.

What's next?
Where do we need to be?
What still needs doing?

And somewhere along the way, we forget to stop and actually be where we are.

So this Wednesday, stop.

Stop thinking about tomorrow for a little while.
Stop checking the clock.
Stop worrying about the things that can wait until morning.

Rewind.

Back to the friend you haven't had a real conversation with lately.
Back to the person sitting beside you instead of the phone in your hand.
Back to that feeling of having nowhere you need to be and nothing you need to accomplish.

Maybe even rewind all the way back to yourself.

And then reconnect.

With a good friend.
With a quiet evening.
With the river.
With the simple reminder that not every moment has to be productive to be worthwhile.

That's what Wind Down Wednesday is about.

A couple of hours. A kayak. A quiet stretch of river. A chance to leave the noise on shore and let yourself slow down for a minute.

Stop. Rewind. Reconnect.

Wind Down Wednesday
Wednesday at 5:24pm
$25 per person
Reservations required. 828-434-6435 (text or call)

Sometimes the best way to move forward is to stop for a minute, rewind a little, and reconnect with what matters.

09/06/2026

Rivergirl Sunshine Sunday

This Labor Day weekend marks the last busy weekend of our season, and if you’ve followed along this year, you already know the river has asked us to be extraordinarily flexible. We started with drought, moved into summer storms, went back to drought, then suddenly found ourselves reaching for sweatshirts in temperatures that felt more October than August. Sprinkled between it all have been some amazingly perfect river days. There have also been more “We are closed today” posts than we would ever choose to make.

Yesterday was supposed to be one of the big ones.

We had a packed day ahead of us, rain forecasted for around 6pm, and only two staff helping us negotiate hundreds of moving pieces. So we did what we do. We made a plan. Boats & tubes were prepped. Reservations organized. Timing worked out. Everyone knew where they needed to be and how we were going to keep the day flowing smoothly.

And then a storm cell popped up. Half the day had to be canceled.

Canceling river trips is never simply pressing a button and saying, “Sorry, weather.” You’re looking into the faces of people who arrived excited for an afternoon of fun, relaxation and making river memories with the people they love, and you have to be the person who tells them those plans have changed. Then come the little huddles as families regroup and compare schedules. Can we wait it out? Can we come tomorrow? Should we take the rain credit and come back next year? Then there are the people already on the river who need to be reached, the equipment prepared the day before for hundreds of guests that now has to be gathered and put away, and the staff who had arrived ready and eager for a packed day suddenly moving with something closer to dejection.

Yet they keep moving. Because that is part of this job. We go with the flow. We do it safely. We stay calm. We hope for another day.

There is a particular weight that comes with being responsible for someone else’s experience. Anyone who has spent their working life taking care of people probably knows it. Sometimes your job is to quietly hold someone else’s disappointment while setting your own aside. You listen. You explain. You offer alternatives. You absorb frustration that isn’t really directed at you at all, but at the situation. And because you understand why they are disappointed, you give them room to feel it. What you don’t always notice is where all of those little moments go after you’ve carried them for everyone else.

Eventually everyone left. And for a little while, it was just me closing out the shop.

That’s when the floodgates opened. Completely unexpectedly, I cried.

Not because of one canceled afternoon. Not because I was sitting there replaying everything that had gone wrong this season. It wasn’t wallowing, weakness, self-pity or even sadness in the way we normally think of sadness.

My body was simply done holding everything.

The drought. The storms. The decisions. The responsibility. The constant recalculating. The physical work. The emotional work. The people looking to you for an answer when sometimes the only honest answer is, “I don’t know yet.” The intensity of an entire season spent trying to remain the calm at the center of whatever weather, problem or unexpected turn arrived next.

Being the calm at the center of a storm can be deceptive. Because calm doesn’t mean nothing is happening inside. Sometimes it means you’ve been holding everything steady until there is finally somewhere safe enough to put it down.

So I did. For however long my body needed, I let it all pour out. And when it was over, I wasn’t empty. I was simply fine. I closed the shop and went home.

There I found people I love standing in the kitchen making a Mexican dinner completely from scratch. There was laughter. There were potatoes, mushrooms, cactus, guacamole, cotija and handmade corn tortillas. Food passed between loving hands. Stories bounced across the room. Nothing needed solving. Nobody needed an answer from me.

And somewhere between bites, a quiet little voice inside whispered: “It’s going to be okay. This is why you do it.”

And maybe that was the part I needed to remember most.

So much of what we do here is about creating space for other people to make memories with the people they love. We spend our days helping someone else relax, reconnect, celebrate, explore, laugh, or simply disappear into the river for a little while. Yesterday reminded me that responsibility has weight precisely because it is attached to something we care about. Family has weight. Community has weight. Leadership has weight. Small business has weight. The work we choose to love often asks something of us in return.

Sometimes that weight becomes exhausting. And sometimes, when the day is over, the people we love quietly remind us why we keep picking it back up.

So this Sunshine Sunday, I’m grateful for the release as much as I am for the resilience.

For the people who keep moving when the plan changes. For a staff willing to gather boats & tubes instead of launching them. For customers who understand that sometimes loving the river means respecting what the sky is telling us. For the strange strength that allows us to hold things together when they need holding.

And also for the wisdom of finally letting go when they don’t.

Most of all, I’m grateful that after a season spent giving people places to make memories with the people they love, I came home and remembered that I get to make some too. Around a table. With handmade tortillas. And people who love me.

The river will flow again. So will we.

What do you keep showing up for, even when it exhausts you, because somewhere beneath the weight there is love?

09/03/2026

BRUSH THE BURN: A YAKISUGI WORK PARTY

High Country friends, makers, curious humans, and anyone who likes learning something new with their hands, we could use a little help.

We’re in the middle of a new Rivergirl expansion project, and the boards have already been charred using yakisugi, the traditional Japanese method of preserving wood with fire.

Now comes the next step: wire brushing the charred surface to bring out the grain, texture, and character of the wood.

So we’re making a party out of it.

Come learn the process, grab a brush, lend a hand, and help us move one very interesting project a little closer to finished.

No experience necessary.

- Hands-on yakisugi experience
- Plenty of boards to brush
- Food provided
- Beverages provided
- Good company strongly suspected 😂

- Friday September 11th
- 10am till ? It’s a party!!! Who sets an end time ??
- Location: Revealed to confirmed participants!!

Come for a little while or stay as long as you’d like.

And what exactly are we building?

We’ll save that reveal for later.

For now, let’s just say Rivergirl is growing beyond the riverbank.

Interested? Comment below or send us a message for details.