I awoke with a start, not due to loud rumbling, but due to the ground shaking under my sleeping bag.  It was 3:30am and a heavily laden freight train was headed north on tracks located just across the river, less than 30 yards from my tent.  We were guerrilla camping along the Tioughnioga River in upstate New York paralleled by a little used railroad line.  It was the only train we heard or saw during our trip down river, but its timing was exquisite. After the train passed I snoozed a little and then got up to the sounds of wild turkeys coming off their roosts on the nearby hillside. …