Crush and Roll 2012, Paso Robles , Ca. A cigar journey and adventure

September 24, 2012 / Bo / No comments

I truly enjoy cigars but rarely smoke more than two a week. As for the spirit world, it is a rare indulgence that I partake in. Yet the word on the street was that Crush and Roll was a primo event, that anyone who considers themselves a player or wannabe in this world should attend.

I did some homework and spoke to several of my cigar posse who attended last year and it was all thumbs up.  I was stoked to go but did not want to make the journey alone. Paso Robles is 250 miles from LA, and a hard climb to do in one day. Crush and Roll is a 2 day gig but that was not the plan so I recruited two of my fellow cigar posse to make the trip with me.

One of the posse was a PHD who taught dental students how to spot oral cancer in your mouth. Interesting take if you smoke cigars. The other car mate was an expert in emergency preparedness . This is another reason I enjoy cigars. It has been described as an urban fishing pole, a gathering of mind and bodies who become brothers of the leaf.

The details were worked out, I was to be picked up early  Saturday morning and we were going to make that 250 mile trip to Paso Robles and get there about the time the gates opened which was 1 pm. The boys came to my door a bit late but still within our time frame to get there by 1 pm. The first order of discussion was what cigar to smoke in the car. Mr. PHD.brought with him three Bahia Gold box pressed smokes and offered them to his car companions. I declined telling the crew I was not going to smoke till I got to Crush and Roll. That was received with some derision but I stood firm. Mr. Emergency Preparedness  to be known as EP. decided to light up a cheap, machine made cigar which was a cigar in name only.  This is not what I expected on the first leg of  the cigar journey. Their choice however, so it passed without further ado.

Route 101 is a hell of a beautiful road on the way to Paso Robles, Ca. It borders the Pacific ocean until you get past Santa Barbara, then it’s path follow rolling hills. You swear you are driving in New England, except the temperature is close to 100. My driving companions continued to smoke and we discussed topics which frankly escape me now. They seemed important at the time but that’s the joy of cigar talk. It’s talk without malice. Of course the discussions can be heated or have opinions, but I have always found that most cigar guys will not hassle you even if they disagree with your rap. We made good time towards our destination and got to Paso Robles with an hour to spare before the gates opened for Crush and Roll.

Next to the outdoor center where Crush and Roll  was being staged was  another event  that we came across. A flea market which sold mostly minerals and rocks. Rocks of different types, minerals made into jewelry, and some booths just looked like someone unloaded their garage and wanted to make a couple of bucks. Some of the stuff was pretty cool , we walked around and took in the wares. It was a pleasant sojourn viewing stuff I knew very little about. I did take two Geology courses back in college but my collective wisdom was just about nil. It was time to go to Crush and Roll and see stuff I knew something about. Cigars and other spirits awaited us.

We got to the line as the event opened and the crowd was buzzing and anxious to partake in the joys of smoke and spirits. I chatted with a dude from the town of Tehachpapi, Ca. made semi famous in a song by Little Feat. I told him about the song and he was not aware of it. Not sure he knew who Little Feat were. No matter, he was happy to be at Crush and Roll.

Whenever you go to a happening, you need a plan of attack. Should you jump in the line, wait forever for a cigar or a drink or just wait till the lines cool down a bit? My group went straight to the beginning of the line along with the other crazed folks looking for a cigar and alcohol fix.  My first scores was a Partegas 1845 and Room 101 smoke. Also a taste of a Roxo port , very nice blend. The line snaked around several booths , we grabbed several more smokes, and what I noticed, people were chatting about the wine and this slowed the movement of the crew down. I stood around for a few more minutes and made a grand decision. I would barge ahead of the wine crowd and just go to the cigar vendors. This was a wise move. I picked up the pace and scored Camacho , Dignity, Torano, and Drew Estate without too much trouble.  I then went to the other side of the booths and claimed my Tiant , La Palina, Berger and Argenti without a hitch. I was on fire now. Next came San Lontano,  Kristoff,Chinnock Cellars, Bellaterra ,Asylum,  Miami cigars,  and Lou Rodriquez stogies. I needed a break and found a seat , grabbing a Figueroa Mtn. Red beer. The temp. was about 100, people were milling around trying to find shade, with the intent of either drinking and smoking. My smoke was the Bellaterra cigar, a brand I was not famiilar with and apparently not many others knew them either. No matter, it was a very good smoke and I would consider it a great find. That is the beauty of an event of this type. You get a broad sample of many cigars that are not widely distributed but are first rate. I found my two comrades and we all were quite pleased and took time for a quick bite.

Now, there is always drama in everyone’s life and I was about to get mine. My wife called me and said there was a report of a fire edging around my “hood” . The radio reports said the fire crews were battling this blaze along with the end of another fire near the 405 freeway which is close to where I live.  She was calling me every 10 minutes or so and giving me updates. My phone was running out of charge, I was 250 miles away and except for getting freaked out, nothing I could do. Fortunately the blaze near me was misreported and actually was further away from my house. I could smoke again in peace.

The rest of the day proved to be very enjoyable.  I received my samples of cigars from many vendors. There were 20 in all. I had good discussions with the reps from Blue Mountain Cigars, Roma Craft Tobac, the crew from Cigar Rights of America, and  Cigar and Spirits Magazine. I met some Twitter friends who only knew from this venue.  Saw buddies from San Lontano and Dignity who I knew from other encounters.

What I got from from Crush and Roll besides the products , is why I enjoy the companionship  of cigars so much. People who I meet in cigar events want to be there and get a kick out of meeting other like minded people. You can be an expert or not, what you bring to the table is slightly enriched when you leave.  My circle has gotten bigger,  more joyful and if I manage to get to any of the towns my cigar friends live, I am sure they would invite me in for a sit down and smoke.

 

Category: Bo / Tags: , , , ,

Chicago Pipe Show 2012

June 14, 2012 / TristownDynamite / 3 comments

The Chicago Pipe Show was a much different experience for me this year. I had originally hoped to meet with another Botscast contributor and YouTube presenter, but things didn’t work out. I couldn’t make it on Saturday and by Sunday my friend had already left. When I arrived it was pouring rain and though things were still going on, many vendors had already shut down and shipped out. The long rows of tables had these random bare spots, but all remaining vendors would not spread out. Instead choosing to remain in tight clusters. When I go to things of this nature I prefer to do a quick run through and decide where the majority of my time should be spent. Occasionally someone will stop me and explain “you need to see this, it’s a once in a life time opportunity”. Usually turning out to be a waste of time and a table that will not be revisited. I don’t care about your bulk of unlabeled pipes that I have no way to prove are from such and such company. So I make my initial round and begin to meander for longer periods at chosen tables when I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I immediately tense up. I have this fear that I’ll be recognized in public. That I’ll have to answer for some off hand comment I no longer remember or a piece of writing that was not agreed with. This whole fear in itself is absurd and in all honesty has never happened, but it’s not impossible. My face is out there. Between Botscast and YouTube and Twitter, people know what I look like and the sound of my voice. I’m by far not the most well known or popular individual in the pipe community, but my face is out there. It’s not that I’m unapproachable or aloof or even stuck up. I’m just uncomfortable in social situations. On YouTube I’m behind a camera, on Botscast I’m behind a keyboard and when I do stand up I’m behind a mic. None of these things involve an actual face to face conversation. I have that leeway through the mediums I use. That’s not to say I don’t want to meet people or talk to them, I’m just more comfortable when I’m prepared for it.

I turned to find my friend Keith, a history buff and amateur carver. He had just gotten to the show and was wondering if I had come with anyone. I had not and preceded to spend the rest of the day with him and a couple others. We stumbled across a table filled with antique Kaywoodies, but the vendor was not there. He had entered the slow smoking contest that had started five minutes prior. Word was that he had won it at one time or another and since nothing was price marked, the other vendors could not fill in. We were in limbo, the relaxing down time that smoking was built around and we took full advantage. As we were agreeing upon this, I noticed a small Kaywoodie on the table of the neighboring vendor. It was on of the smallest pipes I had ever seen, but very well made. I remarked to Keith that I had a problem with pipes that were classified as “coffee break” because they were all at least half hour smokers and for it to be a true “coffee break” pipe it should be a fifteen minute smoker. I feel this way because I’m always looking for something to replace cigarettes and I’ve never found that pipes could fill the quick “step out” and because of this cigarettes will always have a leg up on me. This pipe seemed to be just what I’d been looking for. I picked it up and looked at the price, $65.00 dollars. I put it down and went to lunch.

After eating and smoking and talking we went back in, but the vendor had still not returned. He must have been winning or at the very least, competing at an exceptional level. While we waited I began to walk back and forth between tables. I would walk over to the small Kaywoodie and then back to my friends. Then back to the Kaywoodie. I’d pick it up and unscrew it and look at the price hoping it would change. Finally the other vendor returned and the conversation that followed was amazing. He knew more about Kaywoodie than anyone I’ve ever met. Not only that, but he knew about each individual pipe he had on the tables. He knew what was there and where it was. Kaywoodie was his passion. As interesting as he was, I still found myself sneaking back to the other table. I asked the vendor where he normally sold out of. “eBay, I do most of my selling on eBay”. “Do you have a card? I’m interested in this little pipe. Do you think you’ll put it up anytime soon”? “That pipe will never be up. It’s just too hard to photograph and explain…look if you want it I’ll sell it to you for $50.00”. “I’m going to run to the ATM”. I asked him about the pipe and he told me it was pre WWII imported briar, between 1936 and 1939. As I walked away I noticed two vendors across the isle looking at me and I thought “have they been watching me walk back and worth this whole time”? Then, one of them smiled and said “So you finally pulled the trigger huh”?

I did the typical “new to you” cleaning and salt treatment. This is the first pipe I have owned that has a screw in tenon and stinger. What I came to find was that the draft on both stem and briar was clear when separated, but very closed when screwed together. I don’t believe this to be a flaw in the pipe, but simply a different draw than I am accustomed to. This is most likely due to the stinger and ball design, but this was not my initial thought. My initial thought was “I should cut the stinger off flush with the draft hole in the aluminum”. To disfigure a one of a kind pipe, older than myself. Not that I should get a new stem made or even see how it smokes, but to cut into and potentially ruin it. It turned out to be a fine smoker. All the progress I’ve made and I’m still a victim of impulse and snap decisions. The growth comes with the suppression of reaction. The fact that I didn’t get the saw speaks volumes. Maturity is not the suppression of impulse, but the suppression of reaction.

 

Category: Thursdays Pipe Bomb /

1967 , the year of the pipe

May 23, 2012 / Bo / 2 comments

1967. The summer of love. For me 3000 miles away from San Francisco, and flower power,a teenager living in NY, 1967 meant other things. I was a Boy Scout, spending the summer in TMR Scout Camps as a counselor in training. I lived in a tent, no hot running water and was put to work learning about the great outdoors.
Every two weeks we were given new assignments which was to learn new outdoor skills. Within TMR which stood for Ten Mile River Scout Camps, about 110 miles from New York City in Narrowsburg NY, there were separate camps. My last camp for that summer was Camp Rondack. In those days, the tobacco was not yet demonized to the extent it is today. Of course we were not encouraged to smoke as this was not the policy of the Boy Scouts. Campers were not allowed to indulge but counselors, scoutmasters and other leaders could . We were not puffing away every second of the day but picked our spots.
However, there was a pecking order of smoking. Cigarettes were at the bottom of the pack and it was mostly the younger counselors who puffed on them. Mind you at the time, a pack of smokes cost about 25 cents so even if you were cash strapped, 25 cents could be had.
Cigars were next in line and primarily machine made products. The old grizzled scoutmasters were often seen chewing  stogies or lighting one up at night. They would sitting on a bench barking orders to the boy scout troop and telling everyone what a horrible job they were doing. Since they were the ultimate authority in the camp, their word was law. It as quite a sight , a leader in their scout uniform, large campaign hat covering his dome with smoke circling around them. A real version of a smoke signal.
The top of the chain were the college students who spend their summers in the camp as special counselors. They made little money, but had elite status and clout  in the eyes of the counselor in training.
First they were college students with majors such as wild life management, forestry, or biology. They were there to teach skills to the scouts, and counselors in training. These specialists came up the ranks from scout to CIT and their present position. What also made them special to me  was their love of pipes. It seemed everywhere you went in the woods, in camp and in town , someone was smoking a pipe. The pipes were of all shapes and sizes. Rustic pipes such as corn cobs, more exotic types such as bent bull dogs. The quality of the pipe varied but as long as you had one sticking out of your mouth , you were cool.
Discussions were often arise about what was the best tobacco. No one to my knowledge ever had a custom blend. The store bought tobacco at the time ranged from Borkum Riff, Sail,  or Half and Half. The sweeter tobaccos seemed to be favorites. We could tell who was walking around by the smell of the tobacco. It became their trademark.
I wanted to join the in crowd but was not sure how to make it to this inner circle. It took some time but I figured it out. I would attach myself to a couple of senior counselors and bombard them with questions about their tobacco and pipes. Then I would comment how impressive their pipes made them look as they walked around camp. I was assigned to work in the kitchen at Camp Rondack and my boss, his name was  Mike, was a pipe guy who liked Sail tobacco with the green pouch. This was a fairly aromatic blend and he smoked it while he worked around the office. I complemented him on his choice of tobacco , hoping he was give me the privilege of smoking with him. it was a tough sell because he did not bite . The age difference was a barrier. I was 16 and he was 20. I was not deterred and not  going to stop my quest. Fortunately the camp director was a robust fellow who also love to smoke. He remembered me as a scout several years ago and thought I was a pretty good worker. Norm was his name, and actually gave me a pouch of tobacco and told me to get a pipe. I was shocked and in heaven. What pipe should I buy to make my entrance into this exclusive club? It was also a  question of how much cash I had . I earned no money that summer as a Counselor in Training as the deal was the camp paid my room and board and that was it. A good pipe could run into a pricy item which I could not handle.  I decided it was going to be a bare bones model. I could score a corn cob pipe for 35 cents at a local general store in Narrowsburg NY. My next day off I hitched into town ( in those days , everyone hitched ) made my purchase and waited for my invite to smoke with Norm and whoever else was in tow. I reported back to Norm and showed him my purchase.  He said nothing to me about the pipe in particular but told me to meet him that night for a bowl with the rest of the guys at the staff building . The staff building was an old shack converted to a lounge of sorts. We furnished it with a chairs, a couch, music from a beat up stereo and just plain crap from various locations. Staff members started to filter in after 9 pm with their pipes and stashes of tobacco. I was a regular at the lounge but never smoking with them. I was allowed to sit in and watch them smoke. Tonight it was change. Various guys started their ritual of packing their pipes, lighting up and making comments about the tobacco. I waited for Norm to show up and he did about 1/2 hour later.  Everyone greeted each other and then Norm came up to me. He said, ” what do you got,” and I showed him my pipe. I was expecting a comment  about my selection but all he said , ” OK, light up and join us.”  No one paid attention to me as I filled up the bowl, took a match to the tobacco and started to puff. Actually no one said anything to me smoking that night at all. They didn’t have to. I was now a comrade, part of the group, no longer an outsider. I could sit with them anytime and would be accepted.

The rest of the summer proved to be uneventful. Camp ended at the end of the August and we stayed around several more days to close it up. I was still in high school, entering my junior year. We had a camp reunion that  winter and most of the guys showed up. The college guys tried to be cooler than ever, full of exploits and probably lies about what they accomplished at school. Most of them still smoked pipes, several of them added facial hair to complete the look. Norm, was at the reunion and after that,  I never saw again but heard he became a lawyer in NY. Mike I was told became a priest. As for the other pipe guys, lost track of most of them but have not seen any of them in since 1967.

As for me ,  pretty soon I lost my interest in pipes , channeled that urge to cigars which make me quite happy. I do own one pipe which sits in a drawer and have a couple of  tobacco pouches which sit empty. Never say never, so down the road, might try my hand at a pipe. It would be a starter kit again.  Would be asking for advice on what tobacco to choose but at least I have a pipe.

 

 

 

 

Category: Bo / Tags: , ,

Stem Shapes Defined

April 22, 2012 / Ryan / 4 comments

In the last pipe stem article, I had you guys on the edge of your seats, what with all those different pipe stem materials, and such exciting descriptions of them. I know it, that’s why I had to space out these two posts quite a bit. Had I published this one directly following the other one, we’d be scooping up brain matter from the floors, walls, and ceiling. Because it would have blown your mind *sigh*. So, immediately following the release of the first one, someone pointed out that I had left out Cumberland Stems. To which I will respond: Thank you, Adam, for bringing that to the forefront. Jerkface. So what is a Cumberland stem you may ask? Well, Cumberland is a vulcanite stem, simply put. It is a combination of colored vulcanite, mixed and swirled with black vulcanite..Most often I see the black and red combo, but have also seen yellow and green used as well. The swirl pattern isn’t as swirly as some swirly acrylics. To me, it resembles wood grain. I think it is pretty neat stuff. Now that I got that subject out of the way, I wanted to briefly hit on pipe stem shapes! WHOA!

Side note: I smoke the hell out of my pipes. I clench my pipes. They all have teeth marks. Scoff with confidence pipedouches.

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Tapered- A tapered stem: Let’s see, how do I explain a tapered stem? HMMMM. It’s tapered. Yup. The tapered stem is widest at the point where it connects with the shank, and tapers down to the end you shove into your face. This is shaping up to be a stupid article. Against my better judgment I am going to continue on.

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Fish Tail- Not even sure if this is a shape that is even a mainstream term, but I know that when you purchase a Peterson pipe, the choice of stem is either the fishtail, or the P-lip, don’t worry, I will address the P-lip. I don’t own a Peterson with a fish tail stem, but I have a few pipes that have stems that are shaped like what can only be described as a fish tail. It resembles a regular tapered bit, and maybe can fit in the same category as tapered, except the ones I call fish tails flare back out towards the button.

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Saddle bit- Why is it called a saddle bit? No clue. But this is what they look like. They can be either curved or straight. Instead of a gradual taper down to the mouthpiece, the saddle bit remains the same diameter as the shank of the pipe, until a point determined by the carver. It then is carved out, to take a more angular taper to the mouthpiece. A compelling question is: Why, when Saddle Bits are referenced, they are always called bits? Likewise, when tapered stems are mentioned, I never hear them called “Tapered Bits”, always “Tapered Stems”.

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Church Warden- well its just a very long stem. I don’t even think you can classify this as a stem shape..Just adding a little filler.

Special thanks to Peter for the Church Warden photo!

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Freehand Stem- Yeah. More filler. If a stem doesn’t fit in another shape category, we call it a freehand..Just like freehand pipes.

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P-Lip- Okay, the P-Lip..The P-Lip is best described as the Miracle Whip of pipe stems. You absolutely hate them, to the point where you throw them in a fire, and get new stems fitted to your P-Lip pipes, or you love them so much, you drool and slobber all over them like..I won’t go there..it’s filthy. The P-Lip is the creation of the Peterson pipe company. They figured: “Hey, people complain about tongue bite..Lets make a stem that directs the smoke away from the tongue, and instead, to the roof of your mouth”..Because tongue bite sucks, but roof of mouth bite is awesome! Well, that’s how I interpret it. They achieve the direction of the smoke flow by placing the smoke hole on the top of the stem, rather than on the end of it like any traditional stem.

Special thanks to Jason for sending me a photo of his p-lip (well that sounds dirty.)

I don’t have much more insight on this subject, except that stems are all just a matter of preference. I don’t find any different stem better then the other. Some pipes I love with tapered bits, and some I love with a saddle stem *see how I flipped flopped that one?* All pipes I hate with a P-lip, and I don’t own any pipes with a Cumberland stem..But I really want one. I’ll add one more quirky bit though *oh the puns* It seems there is a lot of confusion with some pipe shapes, most notably the whole bulldog vs. Rhodesian drama, as well as the Canadian vs. lumberman/lovat war..Well. I’m not getting into it, but sometimes, the shape of a pipe is dictated by a specific stem shape. AwwwwwwRight!

Category: Leaf Litter / Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Ild i piben!

April 18, 2012 / Ryan / 2 comments

”Ild i piben!” by Pipepoet

’London made’. I have a handful of pipes with those words stamped on the shank somewhere, and to me it means several things (beside being the actual birthplace of these puffers): first of all it’s the promise of a trusty smoker of high quality, and secondly it provides me a feeling of being part of an old and fine culture. See, for me London has always been THE pipe capitol of the world. In a very fundamental way. It is here that the ritual really got refined and shaped. I have great respect for this and I consider it an honor to be allowed to carry on the tradition (in a world that gradually discards these type of values in favor of more late-modernist emptiness).

So it was with extra pleasure that I came here with my wife for her education. We’ve been here just over a month now, and we’ll be here for three more. We’ve already fallen deeply in love with the city. It is a welcome contrast to Copenhagen. Much easier and cheaper to live in. But that is another part of the story, back to focus. Of course I have brought along a selection of pipes and the necessary tools, and I’ve already smoked some good bowls. Especially on my walks in Epping Forest. I had naturally brought a little tobacco too – a couple of my favorites. But I didn’t pack too many tins. I was, after all, going to London where it actually might be possible to find such a thing as Samuel Gawith on the shelves. I would gladly let Full Virginia Flake be the typical choice during my stay.

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The other day I went into the city center to visit two pipeshops. Two that I had been told would be the biggest and best. I was delighted that morning. Imagined their selection and all the interesting conversations I was to have with the shop assistants – a thing I enjoy a lot with customers when I stand behind the counter at The Danish Pipeshop. It was not difficult to find the shops and I was full of anticipation as I opened the door to the first. And it was absolutely gorgeous. Beautifully and classic decorated. Kept in heavy, dark wood types. Full of atmosphere. I devoured it with my eyes. At least for a moment. Then it dawned on me how few pipes that were exhibited. One single plate on the wall, 1.5 x 1,5 meters. Well, I thought. It may be that they go by the motto “quality over quantity ‘, fair enough. But as I approached and began to inspect the selcetion, I was thoroughly disappointed. A handful of Stanwell (the typical) and a pair of Peterson. Otherwise only cheap baskets pipes that oddly had crept into a prominent place on the wall. Hm. But okay, I was not looking for a new pipe. I was looking for tobacco. Good tobacco.

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I turned around and walked over to the counter to get a view of the tins. Which took about three seconds. Believe it or not, we have gas stations in Denmark with similar or even better range. No Samuel Gawith. MacBaren was the dominant brand. And we have tons of that stuff Denmark. They did have their ‘own’ house blends in glass jars (produced by Gawith Hogarth), which looked more exciting. The clerk, a relatively young guy approached me with a questioning look, and I asked him if he had a good, pure Virginia flake. He gave it some thought, whereupon he informed me that the closest we could get was Louisiana Flake, which also had ‘something called … uh, Perique’ in it. Aha. Well, it sounded fine, I like a Va/Per every now and then, so I bought a small bag before I was on my way.

The next shop looked more promising, I thought. There appeared to be slightly more tins on the shelves. Seen out from the sidewalk anyway. There wasn’t, it turned out. The staff was incredibly well-dressed. It was – in addition to a young kid in a stiff suit – of a bunch of older gentlemen who distinguished themself by falling straight down into the stereotype of a tight lipped British gentleman. Ah, I thought, they should know a thing or two! But before I spoke with them I would just lurk at their pipes. There were certainly more than in the first shop. Dunhill, Davidoff, Savinelli was to be found. But nothing that made my blood boil. Just the most common models and series. But again, I was not trying to expand the collection so I could allow myself just to shrug.

Then I want to gaze the tobaccos behind the counter. Again, MacBaran. And a handful of typical aromatic slave tobaccos that one can find anywhere in Europe. I did however spot a tin that I could not remember. I turned to the young kid (who was closest) and the conversation was as follows:

Me: ”Excuse me, that tin there. What type of tobacco is it?” Jack: ”That one? Hm. I think it is … no, excuse me, we better ask …”

Then he dragged one of the old noble-looking men over.

Kid: ”The gentleman would like to know what type of tobacco is in this one…”

The noble man looked carefully at the can for a few long seconds before answering:

Nobel man: ”Well, it’s … it’s probably a mixture.” Me: ”So there is Latakia in it?” Nobel man: ”Latakia? No, it’s a mixture.” Me: ”But an English mixture?”

The man looks back at the tin.

Nobel man: ”Ooooh, I believe so. I think it’s made here, yes.”

I had to change strategy.

Me: ”Ok. What does it taste like then?” Nobel man: ”Taste? Hm, I would think that it is slightly sweet. Not entirely sure though.” Me. ”Thank you.”

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Less than five seconds later I found myself once again out on the street, shaking my head. If this is the standard here, things are bleak in the old pipe country. Of course it’s not their fault that the market is difficult for pipes and pipe tobacco these days. In this way, one can not blame them for their ignorance. That they, for example are focusing more on cigars makes good (capitalist) sense all things considered. But then again, ignorance (which to the customer appears to be sheer lack of interest) doesn’t exactly help the case, so in a way they are in fact partly responsible. It is not their ‘hmmmm’ that gets new people to be interested in the hobby, the culture. When I myself as a salesman is talking with young people who are considering buying a pipe, I always do the best I can to show my own interest and passion. It may be naive, but I think that to a certain degree it can rub off on them. Give them a feeling that there are other more interesting aspects of the smoking than just the smoke itself. That there’s a depth that can be explored and that there is an invisible value in the products that can be enjoyed at many different levels – also aesthetically. And that is the way forward, I think. If pipes must have a revival – like cigars – it’s very much our responsibility as pipe smokers to inspire it. To carry on the legacy with respect and insight.

It’s sad to see that the English pipe smokers have so far failed in this regard. London in this sense has fallen! Understand me right, I know several “good” pipe smokers in Britain that not only honors the tradition, but even lift it to a new stage. But they are not numerous enough to have affected the business in general. And when they’re simultaneously fought by a puritanical world structure, then it is not an easy task. I can not accomplish much in that sense during my time here. Other than continuing to raise my pipe with pride and hope for the best.

“Ild i piben!” as my boss always says to me. “Fire in the pipe!”. And that we must keep. In more than one way.

Category: Leaf Litter / Tags: , , , ,

Your Breed Is Next

April 14, 2012 / Ryan / 2 comments

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Well, our lovely government is at it again. It seems like every time we all come together as fine tobacco enthusiasts and crush one demoralizing, controlling bill or act, another one surfaces. So this time it’s the Food and Drug Administration. Basically, from my understanding, which is “Layman terms” I have formed a paraphrase/analysis/metaphor?? You know all those tests, inspections, data collection, and quality control checks that that the FDA implements to food to make it “safe” for our consumption? Well, they want to do that to cigar production and manufacturing. What that means is all the expensive cigars we enjoy, will cost more. They will have to, because the cigar companies are going to have to foot the bill for all these regulations, tests, checks, and whatnots. Furthermore, the industry will be strictly regulated in how our sticks will be packaged. This means no more creativity in box art, which might sound stupid and unimportant, but let me just inform you non smokers what cigar smoking is all about: Time honored traditions and old world craftsmanship; guys this is a true form of art to be respected and cherished. Cigars are about celebration and camaraderie, dedication, and discipline. Lighting up a fine, hand rolled cigar can be compared to indulging in a steak prepared by a top notch chef, who sourced the beef from a farm down the street, where the farmer fed the cow only the best food, or grass, or whatever cows love the most. Weather or not you smoke cigars or not, you can appreciate something handcrafted, and there is no doubt something in your life that you enjoy, that you could compare it to. Well you don’t smoke, and cigars are stinky, so who gives a crap ? Right? Well, support us for what we love, and be assured, that we have your back when the government starts sticking its hands in your cookie jar, because cigar smokers and pipe smokers are the warmest, friendliest, most generous people that walk the earth… But, we are scrappers. We will strike hard, and first, when provoked.

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I’ve been involved in various depths of dog rescue for a number of years. In the last few years my involvement has tapered off, but in the pit bull world, as RESPONSIBLE owners, (and there are FAR too many irresponsible ones), we find ourselves having to work harder than our Labrador neighbor. We fight for our dogs to be understood, we advocate for responsible ownership, and we educate our communities on the wonderful breed. Our dogs are blamed for everything wrong in the neighborhood; they are associated with unsavory people and criminal acts. The media plays up incidents involving pit bulls, and will label any mixed breed of dog, as one. But whatever, that is a different story. I’ll make this spiel relevant to the topic now: In the world of pit bull rescue, we have a saying:

“Your Breed Is Next”

It simply means that targets change. You may not care about cigars, or the fine folks that have a passion for making them. There IS something you are passionate about though, and that something may be the next target of such a proposal. There was a time where the American Pit bull Terrier was portrayed as the heroes I know them as. They fought in wars, and were a symbol of the United States of America. Now they are pariahs. Hopefully with hard work we can change the stigma attached to this breed, but unfortunately, another one will have to take its place. Be informed in your decisions; take sides only after properly and thoroughly educating yourself.

So here is the petition. We are closing in on 10,000 signatures, but we need 25,000. We’ll get it. We’ll get more, but we need you. We need your neighbor, your mother, everyone you know. Share it on Twitter and Facebook. If for no other reason, just do it because your “breed” is next.

What will happen if the FDA does regulate premium cigars?
Higher cigar prices funding FDA to take control of the cigar industry.
Manufacturing restrictions that ruin the taste and aroma of your cigar.
Potential end to new cigar blends and limited editions.
No more self-service walk-in humidors–your cigars could be behind lock and key.
Onerous advertising restrictions.
No more premium cigars with flavors of coffee, distilled spirits, or other flavorings sought only by adult audiences. *source credit IPCPR.org*

Now get personal with us. I asked twitter followers and facebook “fans” “If the FDA is successful with their drive to regulate premium cigars, how will it affect you?” And here are the responses I got. I propose the same question to you.

“FDA, if all flavored tobacco banned, would boot me out of a job, cigar regulations would also can me”. ~@thepipebit Chris R.: Pipe tobacconist at Uhle’s Pipe Shop
“I will likely lose my job, as online sales will be banned. ~@bootblackblast Jessica D.: employee of www.CigarPlace.biz
“I will go back to stripping”. ~@Room101Cigars Matt Booth, owner: Room 101 Cigars
“I will make jewelry.” ~@RODRIGOcigars George Rodriguez, owner: Rodrigo Cigars
“I will be unemployed.” ~@MCCBarry- Barry S, Sales representative for Miami Cigar Company @SteelSouls Replied: “Word” to @MCCBarry’s response of “I’ll be unemployed”. General Manager of Barrister Cigars, in Union, NJ
“My guess is it will drive all the more casual smokers out of the market.” ~@EmilioCigar- Gary Griffith, owner of Emilio Cigars/ Manager at Delaware Cigar Company.
“My favorite pastime may be double the $ and the black market will thrive.” @SeriousBok- www.BroadandLuxe.com
“It could put small boutique manufacturers out of business. The compliance cost would be too prohibitive.” ~@ChiefHava Skip Martin, Roma Craft Tobac
“Gonna force me to buy cigars when I go on vacation out of the country!!! SMH”~@_LOD :Contributor at www.bandbcigarclub.com

Category: Leaf Litter / Tags:

Virginia’s Across The Pond

April 11, 2012 / Ryan / 11 comments

Virginias across the pond~ By PipePoet

Like many others before me, the first tobacco I loaded my pipe with was an aromatic. That was what the lady in the shop suggested, and hey, it smelled delicious. The taste? Well, back then I didn’t taste the tobacco, had no idea how, so I honestly just tasted smoke. Sure, there was a certain fruity note in the air, but I wasn’t able to really find anything in the smoke itself. Hey, I thought, it’ll come, I’ll learn, no worries.

And yes, I learned during my explorations of various super cased tobaccos. I learned to taste the difference at least. Some sort of difference. Then I began to read up on the stuff. Found forums on the old web, and eventually also found a few videos on youtube. Some of them talked about different types of blends – something called English mixtures, Balkans, VaPers, and more. New terms I had no idea what meant. But they made me curious and told promising stories of a world that was so much bigger than I suspected. A world I just had to explore.

For reasons that I how now forgot I decided to try these ’mixtures’ first. Perhaps because I’d read so many raving posts about this Latakia-thing and the magic of Orientals. Or perhaps because it seemed to be the most exotic way to go. I don’t know. In any case, I bought a little tin of My Own Blend Kong Frederik IX (one of the more popular mixtures in Denmark), and when I first smelled it, I was blown away by its full and very natural (but also strange) aroma. This was indeed something else, something very far from the cherry-chocolate-vanilla compositions I’d know so far. My first bowl of it was good. Good enough for me to completely discard the aromatics and smoke nothing but various mixtures for almost two years.

There came a day where I once again felt like wearing my old jungle hat and do some further exploring. But where to go? Didn’t take me too long to decide. One of the things I’d really liked about the mixtures was the natural sweetness that was lurking in their dark corners, and I had learned that it stemmed from the Virginias and their high amount of natural dextrose. Therefore a straight Virginia felt like a natural choice. I believe the first one I tried was Rattray’s Old Gowrie (or perhaps Marlin Flake), but what I do know is that even though a straight Virginia isn’t nearly as forgiving a smoke as a mixture, I had found my style of tobacco. There was, it seemed, no turning back. And now, years later, I still haven’t. I’m still a Virginia smoker 98% of the time (with the 2% being reserved for delicious Virginia/Perique combos).

Well, that was sort of a long intro to what I actually wanted to talk about here. You see, during the time I’ve tried quite a lot of different Virginias, both European and American, and I’ve noticed an overall difference that I will try to explain here. It may sound like generalization but please remember, I AM speaking very generally here.

Let’s go EU to begin with. The European Virginias are what I will here call ’aristocratic’ in the sense that they’re quite tight lipped and ’thin’. There is something almost reluctant about them, something almost arrogant. One has to be worthy of their flavors, I sometimes think. Smoking them can almost feel like begging for them to tell their secrets. They’re not unfriendly, not at all, but they’re not generous either. That’s sort of the overall impression I have of EU made Virginias.

Another aspect of them is that the tradition in EU is somewhat uniform. Even if you consider the extremes there are not an enormous difference between them. And if a Virginia is in the bright end of the spectrum it is almost always tuned with a bit of citrus notes, and if they are darker, there is typically something over them that reminds me of dry, dark chocolate. And that is more or less it. Not many colors to choose from. The Virginias in Europe seems to be treated in a quite conservative manner.

The US made ones, I find, are very different. Compared to their European relatives they’re extremely bold and noisy. There’s no hiding anything with them. They’re out there like a drunk sailor on leave (not to say they’re not elegant or well behaved!). They have huge gestures and strikes me as the fun uncle in the family.

The chrematistics are far more diverse – even if one compare Virginias of the same ’category’. A bright one isn’t necessarily ’just another Golden Sliced citrus clone’, and a darker variety can easily move away from the dark chocolate notes in favor of more fruity playfulness. I know that a lot of this has to do with the – in general – more loose hand when it comes to casing and toppings, that should of course be considered. But I’ve still to smoke one that is overly flavored with something, and overall I find the treatments very respectful. Either way, the result is a range of Virginias with a whole lot of personality.

The above impressions may of course be very different from others, but in my book they make sense. This text could even go as far as to draw up some interesting cultural theoretic lines, but I won’t bore you with that kind of pseudo-academic babble. What would be interesting, though, is your opinion on this. Do you have a similar experience?

Finally I might as well mention my preferences when it comes to the above. Some of my favorites are EU made – like Capstan Original Navy Cut, Richmond Navy cut, Full Virginia Flake, and Astley No. 44. But overall I prefer the American approach, and the best Virginias I’ve smoked has been gifted from friends across the pond. Blenders like GL Pease and McClelland are in my perspective in the absolute top, and if their blends were available over here I would probably smoke nothing but Union Square and Blackwoods Flake. Man, that’s some good Virginia!

Category: Podcasts / Tags: , ,

Cigar Season

April 8, 2012 / Ryan / 5 comments

Well, seems as though mother nature has declared it cigar season for me! Dreamy weather! I have not reached for my briar in a few weeks now,but have been hankerning for the humidor. During the first half of winter I really neglected my humidor care duties, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the cigars I’ve smoked so far his season,had seasoned well, and were not too dry or damp. Just right in fact! I do have a few more pipe articles in me, including the sequel to my article on stems (RIVETING!!). I’m also pretty excited to release a couple submissions I have received from Copenhagen, from a friend who not only is an extremely knowledgeable tobacconist there, but turned out a couple very interesting reads. If you are the kind of sorry soul that enjoys reading these articles on pipes and pipe tobacco. His English is absolutely horrific; he cuts the language up like a sugar cane harvester, hacking away with broad swipes of a machete. Oh, no, wait. I have him mistaken with myself. It always amazes me when I get submissions from other countries, and so far I’ve received them from a guy in Portugal, I interviewed a guy in Ukraine,and now this dude from Denmark. Every single one prefaces their entries with “you’ll have to excuse my poor translation”,and “You’re probably going to have to spend hours editing this” (as if I edit, HAHA) It always turns out that I really have minimal corrections to make,save for the 3 thousand emoticons I had to remove from Daniel Mustrans interview LOL ;) Less than I do on my own,in fact. Way less than I have to do on Tristan’s entries. I spend countless hours editing his stuff,and you guys think he’s SUCH a terrific writer. I’m joking of course. I actually only write these things because I am inspired by Tristan a great deal. Anyway,onto the meat:

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My first cigar of the season was a favorite from last year: The Diesel Shorty LTD, made by AJ Fernandez, and made for TV star/pit bull rescuer (another reason for my purchase)/ midget, Shorty Rossi. Yup, I said Midget. Fact is, Shorty will never read this, I reached out to him a dozen times for an interview and as expected, was ignored. Who am I after all? He’s a very busy man. Another fact: Should he ever read this, maybe he’ll get mad, and punch me in the face. Who has a cooler story than that? Nobody..OK, back to it.. It’s a short, robust cigar, sized at 4 inches long with a 60 ring gauge. For you pipe guys who don’t enjoy fine cigars, or anyone else, ring gauge is a description of the measurement of diameter, or thickness of a cigar. In scientifical terms, it’s measured in 64 th’s of an inch; For whatever reason. I’m sure that info can be found at some reputable tobacco related blog. I smoked this cigar because this is the cigar I bought to celebrate the birth of my son, Sully. I bought a bunch and gave them out to friends. I printed a bunch of “commemorative” bands to put on them. image

I saved one to smoke on his 1 st birthday. Well, my in-laws were visiting then, and then I came up with about 50 other excuses to not set aside an hour of enjoyment. So I ended up partaking on this “celebration” the other day. Better late than never. If you want to get your hands on some Diesel Shorty’s, get in touch with my friend, and VERY SPORADIC contributor to Botscast: “Blast”..Or Jessica, the cigar Ninja, over at www.CigarPlace.biz. I had a little arrangement with them last year, involving advertising, and that’s how I met her, and it could be argued that I am biased in my plug of their site. Well, their prices are low, if not the lowest online, and customer service is great. Inventory isn’t always in stock, but you can be alerted via email when they get your fave sticks in. I’ll take that over paying more money per box, so take away from that whatever you want. The next day I smoked another of my favorites from last year, the Room101 LTD Conjura. image

It’s a spicy little 4X44 and it’s box pressed which I like. Not only that,I like to support good people. Matt Booth is probably the coolest guy on the face of the earth,and easily the most genuine and down-to-earth.

So have you guys started toasting up the stogies yet? Which ones?

Category: Leaf Litter / Tags: , , , , ,

Dusty Jars

April 5, 2012 / TristownDynamite / 6 comments

I’m at a strange place in the hobby. I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed by my tobacco collection. When I first started collecting I would open tins and smoke a bowl and throw the rest into a jar. Some has been heat sealed and some has not. Some has been rehydrated several times. Some was gifted and left in bags to be forgotten and dry to dust. Every four months or so I look at this mass of tobacco and think about getting rid of the lot. I know what I like, so why not just keep stocked in that? Why let unused tobacco that I don’t plan on smoking sit while the jar lids collect dust?

There are some tobaccos that I age, but these are not them. These are the rejects. The mistakes of a new smoker. Poorly raised children that you’re just looking for an excuse to throw out of the house. It’s not the fault of the jars, it’s mine, but now they sit there reminding me of my ignorance toward a hobby. My lack of knowledge on a specific subject. It makes no sense that this would be a source of stress, but for some reason, it is. I do much better with small amounts, manageable chunks. A small box of things I can look fondly upon. Not a chest of old journals and creased photos.

I’ll probably never throw them out…because I’m a collector. I’ll just continue to feel overwhelmed and occasionally consider condensing and then go about my day. Perhaps that’s where the stress comes from. It’s such a contradiction to be overwhelmed by clutter and yet be a collector. The classic biting off more than you can chew scenario or, more to the point, a packing up more than you can smoke scenario. I’d give it away, but it’s been so poorly kept that I’m not sure if it would be worth smoking. Another thing is I’m scared to send it to friends for fear that they will judge me by it. It’s like when you go out all the time, but never have anyone over because you’re ashamed of your apartment.

I’ve often wondered if I’m alone in this and would like to here some feed back on the matter. Do any of the Botscast readers have way more tobacco than they need or even want, but don’t have the heart to throw out? Are you ever concerned about sending people tobacco? Let me know.

Category: Thursdays Pipe Bomb /

Sir Walter Raleigh, A Tobacco Review.

April 2, 2012 / Tmoney / 2 comments

Note: You might be able to pick out some historical fact in this review. But also know that there is sure to be embellishment. Haha. Enjoy! To read it in context visit here. And just scroll down to “tmoney.” And Remember, it is supposed to be stupid. 

Sir Walter Raleigh:

“Comes meus fuit illo miserrimo tempo”… Or in my native English “It was my companion at that most miserable time.” This is what my tobacco was to me.

‘Twas many years after my escapades in the Americas, (what I hath considered to be the prime of mine own life), that I was sitting in my prison tower, awaiting execution. It wasn’t the first time I had been in prison. My first imprisonment came shortly after I broke off my relations with Queen Elizabeth for one of her hand maidens. This enraged the Queen, my backing out of our love affair. I wanted someone new, young and fresh. In the end, I spent the fair Queen for all she was worth in the Bedroom; the woman was experienced, I shall commend her to that. Quite naughty was our affair; many times she wouldsts pleasure me in most the inopportune of places, such as at the royal Banquets. Often during those banquets she would commence to pleasure me beneath the dinner table by giving to me a handeth jobbeth amidst the meal and conversation. The Queen’s methods were quite clever in nature, often she would take a pat of butter or grease from a turkey leg in place of lubricant in order to “do her Majesty’s work”. I would maintain my composure through out, not a one at the dinner parties wouldst be aware of what was occurring beneath the tablecloth, for even at my moment of climax, my face was as solemn as a sailor. She took thrill in the possibility of being caught. Many times I wouldst receive a reacheth aroundeth, or she wouldst ride me as if I were a noble steed. But however pleasurable she may have been, nothing could make up for that foul face which she bore. And her hand maiden was privy to all the same tricks as the Queen, and more refined and well developed tricks of a younger generation. I shouldst mention also that the youth of the bonny lass contributed to the dexterity of her hands and fingers. She was also able to rolleth her tongue. Consequently the Queen, in a Jealous rage, threw us into prison. We stayed there until the Queen needed me to embark on expeditions to the Americas. This only gave me more free time to explore the maiden’s “Golden City.”

That ’twas the first time. On this second occasion I am accused of espionage, which may or may not be truth. As I sat there I sought back in mine own mind to the prime days. Days when I explored for the city of Gold, and found only jungle and women whom wouldst pleasure me to the extent of which I felt as if I had turned to gold! I think back to the disaster days of Roanoke, that glorious debacle and when I Ironically named Virginia after the Virgin Queen whom I was bonething.

I lighteth my pipe of tobacco one last time, to enjoy my old friend before death is dealt my way.

I take my last puff of smoke as the guards come take me away to have my head severed. No matter, I hath shared a bed with more women that one couldst count; my life ’tis complete. I am guided to the city square where many hath gathered to watch the Great Sir Walter Raleigh be executed. I look into the executioners eyes as I kneel down before the chopping block. I request to see the blade that will take my life. ‘Twas a good blade, indeed. To the executioner I say “Let us dispatch, At this hour my ague comes upon me. I would not have my enemies think I quaked from fear” I lay my head on the block, ready for the death dealing blow of the ax, as I cry out “STRIKE MAN, STRIKE, as I did to thine mother last night!” In blind rage, executioner swings his axe. Darkness.

Category: Tmoney / Tags: , , ,
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