It’s not actually… at least not always… the physical journey, but the journey through a blog post.
When I sit at the computer on many a Saturday and/or Sunday, I sometimes jump right into a post, and other times, think about where “I want to go” via the words. It’s much like looking at the bookshelf, and figuring out (when I don’t really have some targeted subject in mind) what I want to read about, at a particular time. Sometimes the direction in which I go is prompted by whatever happens to strike me; and it’s random, and generally unpredictable (for me, personally, I call it the “Conococheague approach”… and, the Conococheague happens to be an important course of water that runs through the northern-most reaches of the area that I enjoy writing about… and meaning, according to translation in Lenape/Delaware, “water of many turns”). It’s not that I set out to take this approach, rather, it simply happens. Sometimes mood is prompted by weather, and, for whatever reason, I’m especially inspired on cooler, Fall-like days. Call it crazy… but that’s the way I am. I suppose, in part, it’s something in the creative side of me, trying to weave raw, and otherwise static history together with… something else.
Give me a little bit… blog post coming up…
Cenantua's Blog 
jgo
July 24, 2011
Free associating is what the psychs might call it: Conococheague was the name of the PA township where reverend Hugh Vance (of Opequon and several other early Shenandoah valley churches) married Elizabeth Park. Powhatan’s more bellicose brother was Opecancanough. Is that where the name Opequon (Opeckon…) came from? und zo weiter
Robert Moore
July 25, 2011
Not so much free association under the umbrella of psychology, or as used in psychoanalytical application. It might be considered free expression in journalistic terms, but, rather, I see this simply as random, spontaneous, unpredictable (generally) delivery of historical content that occurs based on a feeling at a particular time.
The PA town, Conococheague, no doubt got it’s name from the creek, but contradicts meaning, as certainly, the town is not a “water of many turns”.
I always have a difficult time remembering the pronunciation, but from what I remember, Opechancanough or Opchanacanough, is pronounced O-pe-can-ca-noe (though I’ve also heard it pronounced O-PEE-CHAN-can-OH), so, if “Opequon” (pronounced, essentially, O-pe-can) is derived from the name, it carries four of five syllables. Considering Opchanacanough’s possible historical association with the middle Shenandoah Valley, even though only relatively short, I suppose it’s possible that it may be derived from the name