Speaking of good books to give anglers for Christmas, I must mention Lou Ureneck’s Backcast: Fatherhood, Fly-fishing, and a River Journey Through the Heart of Alaska. Some Mainers may remember Lou from his years as editor of the Portland Press Herald. Although he left town for other challenges, and is now chairman of the journalism department at Boston University, he still remembers where the good fishing holes are in Maine and remembers what to do when he gets there.

And I’m not just saying this because Lou is my boss. Really.

Backcast is the true account of an Alaskan fishing trip he took with his teenage son to try to restore the father-son relationship after a difficult divorce. The son wasn’t too keen on the idea of the trip, or of restoring the relationship, which he apparently didn’t think was as badly damaged as Lou thought it was. The two of them were dropped off by a float plane in the Alaska wilderness and spent the next nine days in an inflatable raft floating down an icy river for which they didn’t even have a good map, encountering along the way menacing bears, countless salmon and char, and, of course, each other. It’s a tale very well told, and one that many fathers and sons who have bonded on fishing trips will relate to.

It was when we were fishing that I felt closest to the Old Man. [I’ve explained this before, I think: I never referred to Dad as “my old man.” “The Old Man” is an honorific bestowed on sea captains and military commanders. Dad was a sea captain.] We never had to talk about heavy stuff when we were fishing. We would just talk about the fishing, pleased to be sharing the same space, aiming for the same goal – how to be better anglers. Fishing was like booze – a social lubricant – though we always brought real booze for good measure. It wasn’t until many years after the Old Man’s death that I acquired the camp at Upper Dam. When I’m at camp, pouring a bourbon after a day on the water, I sometimes think how he would have really liked it there.