Bridge bass: Savvy tips for hot spots on every river

God, what a racket. As the sleek Amtrak Acela came along from the south side of the bridge, the mechanical uproar grew and grew and grew. The train appeared out of the thin distance at the bridge’s far end, roared up in speed and expansion as only a train can, then, as we sat in the narrow boat, passed over us like something fleeing a war zone.