Re-Charge with Your Pipe
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Kevin Godbee - Jun 25, 2010
- 3 min read
by Chelsea Morning
You can tell a lot about a woman by what she carries in her purse: lipstick, cell phone, gum and hairbrush; everything but the kitchen sink (unless we can fit that too). I’m going to give you a rare peek inside mine. Move past all the typical items and you’ll find a smaller purse. You may be thinking that I’m a girl in need of a purse intervention, but this is where I keep the good stuff. Inside my mini-purse is my pipe, some tobacco, a tamper, and my matches. Now I don’t sound so ridiculous. Now I sound like a girl who doesn’t want to leave home without her pipe. If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’m going to get my Churchwarden. I always work better when I’m more relaxed. I hope you’ll join me.
Let your mind drift through the smoke. This can be done among friends or in solitude. There’s no wrong way to enjoy it and I guarantee you’ll start to wind down and the worries of the day will begin to fade. It’s hard to frown with a pipe in your mouth (unless that’s the look you’re going for, and we want pictures!). Life passes us so quickly and much of it is spent waiting for retirement. I’m offering you a piece of retirement right now.
Life won’t slow down for you, so take life by the stem, light it with a match, and enjoy it.
I have a list of things to do and I’m sure it’s similar to yours, leaving little to no time to relax. No matter how I struggle or how competently I pursue, it never grows smaller. I’m constantly feeding it and I rush around as though I’ve gone mad trying to get everything done as swiftly as possible. This is standard practice for our society. We are not about waiting, we are about doing. We have one-hour photo, fast food and instant messaging. We’ve become spoiled by instant gratification. Our contentment becomes an obstacle, cutting us off from new pursuits that demand exploration outside of our initial interest. I’m guilty of it too, and that’s one of the reasons I picked up a pipe. There’s a certain amount of experience needed to achieve the delicate balance of choosing the pipe that fits my mood, the tobacco that will most relax me and packing the bowl just right. This is a ritual I enjoy. Even as a beginner I never felt impatient when the first light didn’t give me that full white smoke, or I struggled to get the tobacco packed just right. It’s rare indeed that such trial and error can lead to a relaxing encounter.
We’re inclined to keep our worries tethered to our shoulders and we cleave to them as though they are all that’s keeping us afloat. We seek console in mind numbing activities which offer us short-lived fulfillment. I grew tired of my only downtime consisting of crashing in front of the TV or computer after a long workday. One hour became two, two became four and suddenly the whole evening has moved on without you. My friends became voice mails or email addresses, and when I did see them their faces were often ghost-lit by the intrusive screens of their cell phones. These days, people seem increasingly unable or unwilling to give you their full attention, allowing it to be constantly pulled away by an insistent phone, email or text message. I’m tired of looking at the tops of everyone’s heads as they gaze intently into their laps at the dinner table, as though the world is unfolding on their napkin.
Trade me your phone for a pipe and I’ll give you an hour of your life you didn’t know you were losing.
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Nothing is more fulfilling than doing something you truly enjoy, whether with the enthusiasm of a novice or the deep appreciation of an old hand. There are times when the most rewarding things are the ones that draw you in, that you must work at, the things that beg for deeper investigation. I look at pipe smoking as a cause to slow down and take stock, to refocus my energies and ease the weight of the day off my shoulders, even if just for an hour. I hope you will join me on this worthy voyage.
Until next time, I wish you all a long and pleasant smoke.
 In addition to being a pipe smoker, and writer, Chelsea is also a professional model. You can see her photo shoots in the Pipe Babes section. When she is not burning up the camera lens and tobacco, she also works as a paralegal for a Midwestern law firm.
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Written by Kevin Godbee
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When I first started with the pipe as a quirky and precocious teen, the only tutelage I had at my disposal were scenes from old movies in which a well dressed chap would stick his pipe into a pouch, scoop tobacco into the bowl and press it down unceremoniously with his thumb. Then, with great flourish, he’d strike a match and light the thing with all manner of cinematic excess, puffing up vast clouds of smoke falling just short of completely obscuring his visage. While it may look good on film, it’s a terrible approach to actually enjoying the thing. Somehow, though, this “technique” seems to have survived in the contemporary vernacular, at least to some extent, even with bit-loads of information handily at our fingertips that should dissuade us from the practice. But, at the time, this misguided approach was all I had; it’s no wonder my early days of puffing were fraught with difficult lighting, harsh, bitter smokes and tongue bite, all culminating in a fireproof mass of ye old soggy dottle in the bottom of the bowl. Ultimately, the resulting frustration made me give up the pipe, at least for a while. While the idea of it was still very appealing, the practice of it was not. It wasn’t until a few years later when, still full of curiosity and romantic notions of pipe smoking, I wandered into a real tobacconist’s shop, and learned my “method” was a long way from the techniques that would bring me to any sort of pipe smoking bliss. So, after my poor start, and under the guidance of someone who actually seemed to know how to do it right, I was given the opportunity to approach the process anew, this time with much greater success. It was only because I was both perseverent, and fortunate to have a local shop staffed with knowledgeable people, that I’ve been able to enjoy the experience ever since. At least mostly… How many fledgeling pipe smokers have simply given up on an enjoyable pastime because of similar early mis-starts? Fortunately, today, it’s not hard to find helpful guidance at the press of a key or ten. 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Before we begin, I should tell you: this tobacco review is being written by an A.I. Not the fancy new GPTs or their ilk; no, this is last century’s meat-and-bone, all-organic model. To be fair, a large part of what we call knowledge is merely the accumulated perceptions and impressions gathered from a life wandered through, synthesized into a spongy mass of what-it-is-that-we-think-that-we-know. The algorithm for this prompt is simple enough: pump thousands of bowls of smoldering plant matter into a gaping maw, cross-reference the chemical sensations with all other matter previously ingested or inhaled, sieve it all through the diffuse and fractal twin lens of memory and emotion, and churn out a panoply of adjectives that attempts to convey the sensations to someone who hasn’t experienced it yet. Odds are that a diligently trained monkey could succeed half the time; if this reviewer nears fifty-one percent then that would qualify as an unrivaled success. There must have been some similar musings perambulating through the mind of Per Jensen when he began his mad scientist routine at Sutliff with the Pipe Force project, which brings us to the current mixture under the microscope—Sutliff’s Pipe Force: Episode I. Here again are the unusual ingredients that engendered the series, with the stoved Rustica being the defining voice in this composition. From the tin: The Latakia-forward English mixture offers plenty of smoky flavor from the fire-cured leaf, which is artfully harmonized with floral, earthy Stoved Rustica. A mixture of high-grade Virginias imparts a natural sweetness. Katerini, the sole Oriental component, offers herb and spice notes bringing complexity and nuance to the flavor profile. It’s certainly Latakia-forward, with the stoved Rustica doubling up on the rhythm section like a second bassist. A first whiff from the tin releases the aromas of shoe leather and hide glue in a base of clay soil with a campfire wafted over it like last night’s beach party. Once it’s been accustomed to oxygen again, subtle hints of sweetness poke through from the Virginias: lemon rind, light milk chocolate, the dregs of a peaty Scotch, and muddled cherry. Old regulars like fresh-sawn oak and tilled earth are there, of course, with distinct notes of truffle, creosote, damp peat, and pine bark mulch. As an aside, I’ve been re-potting my camellias and the similarity of aroma to the ericaceous soil mix is notable; the Katerini really brings the unique depth of its vegetal complexion when supported by the Rustica and afforded more voice in the mix. The smoky Cyprian Latakia, in turn, is backed by equal earthiness from the Rustica, which overall exhibits a profile similar to dark-fired Kentucky; it leans more toward the woody and vegetal end of that spectrum, echoing and amplifying those traits of the other constituents. The tobacco is presented pressed and cut into a couple of thick, hearty flakes in the tin, lightly moist and easily crumbled to prepare—I prefer mine with a bit of drying time. The out-of-this-world tin art for this episode in the series is Major O’Meara smoking a cavalier. In the absence of confirmation, I’m going to hazard a guess he’s of the Ithklur species. The first taste from the light is sweet, with hints of that milk chocolate dancing around the edges. The Virginia leads the smoke through the top of the bowl, and orchestrates it well. Thoroughly smoky with lemony, grassy highlights from the Virginia spectrum, it soon segues into the mid-bowl profile: heartier, smokier, with the flavor leaning to the mildly acrid and tangy tinge that is the campfire-esque signature of English blends. Caution advised, it can turn overly bitter if pushed—this is where one’s sipping technique is required to maintain the fullness of flavor through to the heel. I did tend toward a lot of relights, though it may have as much to do with technique as with the blend. Pacing is also important as the nicotine starts to manifest; though the Rustica’s contribution has been tempered well by the stoving, it can certainly upend an empty stomach. At the end of every bowl, the mouthfeel somehow gets better. The balance of sugars in the tobaccos would seem to be spot-on in this regard. I started out my tasting in cobs, then cut short an unpleasant bowl in a meer, and finally landed on my best instrument with the lovely Dunhill 4427 pictured, a quaint group 4 shell briar with a gentle curve and Cumberland stem supporting a perfectly executed acorn bowl. It surprised me here, as I’ve learned through the years that I generally have the best experience with English blends in large, wide bowls. With this blend it seems that to get the best out of the Katerini’s somewhat diaphanous influence the smaller bowl fared much better. Room note is very English, so the company you keep will either love it or hate it, and it doesn’t linger too much. I find it paired best with a strong coffee; Sumatran beans complement the flavors well, as do Ethiopian if a lighter brew is preferred. Overall impressions of the blend are that it’s a curiously interesting take on the English genre, almost a reductive reconstruction of the theme using the unique components. This blend, if nothing else, expanded my vocabulary of sense perceptions with the uniquely treated leaf. While the average human can distinguish approximately one trillion (1,000,000,000,000!) different aromas, multiplied by seven basic tastes, and wholly dependent on variables from body chemistry to atmospheric conditions, our overworked and underpaid simian brains can’t effectively catalog them all. Our pet adding machines are exceedingly good at this, however, and someday soon they’ll be the ultimate and unequivocal authority on what something tastes, smells, looks, or even feels like. Until that time, friends, revel in the moments that can be stolen to savor over a bowl of Pipe Force: Episode I.
Awesome work!
Nice insights; and you have a talent for turning a phrase. Thanks for taking the time to share with us.
Great article Chelsea!
So many people rush around these days without taking the time to “Stop and Smell the Roses”. Pipe smoking is a great way to slow down for awhile and “smell the roses”.
From picking out the pipe and tobacco, all the way through to the last puff, it gives the time to relax and let the world slow down a bit where we are not caught in the hustle and bustle of the hectic everyday life.
Even if it’s just for an hour or so.
Thanks everyone! You’re right Bob, even an hour can be very rejuvenating if you are doing something you enjoy.
there was something about you that drew me in. part of it is your writing but there was something else and it took my wife to point it out to me. she was looking over my shoulder and saw a picture of you and asked, “since when did your daughter smoke a pipe.”
so, in a way i am proud of your writing and talent in a fatherly sort of way. (i can not beleive i said that.) keep writing and i’ll keep reading, i really enjoy it.
Makes me want to light up…a cigar of course. 🙂 I’m very proud of you!
A worthy voyage indeed Chelsea! Bravo on your insight into the passion of the pipe. I agree that life must be enjoyed to the fullest, each moment never taken for granted rather respected as precious. In the smoking of a pipe many moments of magic come to life. As the gentle gray smoke rises into the air dreams are made and for a vapor of time cares and worries subside. A time to examine ones inner self and their part in this chaotic world in which we exist. Thank you dear lady for your thoughts and for sharing them with us. Amazing!!
Ray Keep The Faith
Amen to all that…right on !!