The most dedicated pipe smoker I ever knew was my uncle Bob Weisenberger. (Ain't that a great last name?)
Bob ALWAYS had a pipe in his mouth. At his chair in the living room was an ENORMOUS poker/sitter that probably held three hours of tobacco. He taught me a LOT about pipes and tobacco. He probably had four dozen, all kept in meticulous organization, rotated on a schedule that took either Bob's mind or a Cray computer to track, all lovingly maintained.
Bob had a civil engineering undergrad and a master's degree in urban planning. He worked for the City of Cleveland for many years designing transit routes for trains and buses. Bob would travel through Cleveland by bus and train (and sometimes, but rarely, by cab), accompanied by his big German shepherd dog (over 50 years he had Paula, then Maxx, then Thom). Not only did he NEVER get lost, if he was riding in your car, he could call out cross streets and even buildings as you passed them, and tell you all about the history of every place you were passing.
He loved going to baseball games at Cleveland Municipal Stadium (although he said football was better for him on radio) and was a huge Indians fan with an encyclopedic knowledge of the team. Back then you could smoke in the stadium and most guys smoked cigars. But Bob had a big Stanwell he'd fitted with a windcap, and that was his smoke.
He, and my dad, taught me everything about how a gentleman conducts himself in a city -- whom to tip and how much, how to flirt pleasantly but safely with coat-check girls, what topics of conversation were appropriate for barmen and cab drivers, how to order in a fancy restaurant, how to enjoy a dive.
Bob was blind. He'd lost his sight to scarlet/rheumatic fever when he was 10.
So yes, seeing the smoke is great. But clearly not essential.