Around the time pipesandcigars.com was acquired by Cigars International, I was having a mild PAD relapse and in the midst of this, bought from them a Bjarne Viking Copenhagen Sandblast, a quarter-bent apple. Most of my experiences with this Bjarne "seconds" line had been positive from a bang-for-buck standpoint. The pipe in question was a little heavier than it looked, the blast looked coarser than I was used to seeing on a Viking, and it tasted like bitter tree sap in a way no bowl coating could hide. It had a noisy draw, almost a whistle.
I thought about getting rid of it. It occurred to me that the wood might not have been cured long enough before being machine-transmogrified into a pipe. What it had in its favor was a flat, comfortable acrylic saddle-bit and thick walls. It became a designated beater. I puffed on it with the proverbial reckless abandon. I smoked it on windy days on countless hikes up and down the Rogers Park lakeshore. I treated it like a nothing pipe, less than a cob, incinerating tubs of OTC and bulk VaPers in its bowl.
I'll be damned if this misfit pipe, over the next couple years, didn't emerge from this abuse not only a pretty decent smoker, but one of my go to companions. When I moved from Chicago to Grand Traverse, it was one of a small handful of pipes I kept out to use while the rest of the collection found itself meticulously packed away for the trip.
The night after unloading the first truck, I rubbed out a Dunhill Flake (I usually fold and stuff, but I didn't feel like messing around at this point) and loaded it into my "Bjarne Beater," parked my bruised, sore carcass on a plastic patio chair with an unmatching seat cushion, cracked the first can of a six-pack and lit 'er up. Listening to chickadees and titmouses in the windless night, I had one of sweetest, most sublime smokes of my lifetime.
This pipe didn't just graduate; it refined itself with great distinction.