The Trigger

As I've said elsewhere, I've just recently come back to the pipe after ten years. And I still recall the exact moment, the actual trigger, that brought me back. My wife subscribes to Garden & Gun magazine, a bi-monthly, south-centric exploration of food, spirits, gardening, and yes, guns and hunting. Anyway, a few issues ago, they did a spread on Charles Stick, a landscape architect from Virginia (G&G: Charles Stick), and it was that piece, indeed this very photo of him (Charles Stick and his pipe), that got the old pipe juices flowing inside of me again. Looking at that photo with the smoke swirling up around him (and the other of him working in his office with his pipe in his mouth), I could actually smell and taste the tobacco. Soon after, I broke out my pipe collection, freshened them up, and returned to the path of pipe smoking bliss once again. So, what was the trigger for you to either come back to the pipe or to start up in the first place?

baronsamedi, and once those gears start grinding away at you, they become more and more difficult to ignore.
gwtwdbss, yes, this place is pipe porn central--enablers all around. And the way some of the posters here describe certain tobaccos, they just make them sound so damned good, that you want to run right out and buy them all.
pawpaw, so if it weren't for the tax increase you'd still be smoking cigs?
cigrmaster, with your display cabinet right there in your living room, I don't know how you resisted for so long. Many here are like you--used to smoke cigarettes and/or cigars (some still do), but then moved over to the pipe. For me, it's been the pipe all the way. I smoked cigarettes maybe three times in my life, all as a teenager, and hated it. As for cigars, I've smoked a few of those in my day too, a total of maybe five (guys passing them out because of a new baby, etc.), but never really cared for them either. With pipes though, not only do I love the taste of the different tobaccos, but I love the slow, patient, contemplative ritual of the act of pipe smoking--the fussiness of it all. Give me a good pipe, a rainy afternoon, Verdi playing in the background, and a good book, and I'm in heaven.