About a zillion years ago, when I was in the Girl Scouts (Brownie through a year of Cadettes), we used to sing about the Shenandoah River in a campfire song.
Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you,
Away you rolling river.
Oh Shenandoah, I long to see you,
Away, I’m bound away,
‘cross the wide Missouri.
I always loved that song and still can sing that first verse from memory. Which is exactly what I did in Harpers Ferry when I found myself standing, after all those years, on the bank of the Shenandoah River in West Virginia.