Near the last quarter of this bowl of year 2016 D&R Three Sails in a 1980s straight smooth Big Ben pot with a nickel band and a black vulcanite saddle stem. This pipe was gifted to me by Mark Ryan.
***What Are You Smoking, August 2025?***
- Thread starter JimInks
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Enjoying a tasty charred piece of London Broil for lunch…. wait, no I’m not, I’m just having some GH&Co Black Twist seasoned with SG Kendal Plug in a Peterson Sportsman 87
Huber English Perique in a Georg Jensen. 
Pee Dee in this Savinelli 673KS. Diet Dr. Pepper.
Back home from Welsh Wales, harvested beans, pint of Butty Bach with some Peterson's Irish Flake in the Askwith Liverpool morta with a briar stem. Lovely combination.
Love that pipe....
Gonna ask a dumb question that I should already know answer.....
What is the purpose of the extension of the stem, down below, for??? Does it serve a practical purpose or is it just a cosmetic add??
SB, when I read first part of your message, I thought, "Damn, he sounds pretty "high brow" to me......Enjoying a tasty charred piece of London Broil for lunch…. wait, no I’m not, I’m just having some GH&Co Black Twist seasoned with SG Kendal Plug in a Peterson Sportsman 87
View attachment 408599
I just had baloney and cheese.....
2017 Marlin Flake in a Radice Rind billiard
A southern kid grew up on fried bologna and American cheese on white bread. I’m still a southern kid!
Enjoyed a tasty lunch, and am a quarter of the way through this bowl of year 2020 Watch City Rouxgaroux in a smooth medium bend 2021 Peterson POTY Natural 4AB No. 6/500 military mount with a silver cap and a tapered black vulcanite AB stem. Gold Star Peruvian Macchu Picchu, neat, is my drink. Brought Molly Danger to the den when she was calling for my attention. She's gone around the den trying to figure out what she wants to do. We played a little, I fed her, and now she's in the kitchen hunting invisible mice or something.
Dr Grabow Viscount 46 Continental with some CH
HU Janneman Flake in a Savinelli Punto Oro 101and Diet Coke on the side.
Having a bowl of Margate in a Dunhill Whangee watch the storms roll in.
Snapknot, keep that stuff down there!
C&D Haunted Bookshop in an Al Pascia Curvy with a churchwarden stem.
Morning Smoke, a Kwiki Grape Cigar, rather than a mini-cob of some kinda cherry. Will be breaking my pipe fast this evening, planning a small pipe of Bengal Slices. Not going back to breaking in for a day or two, just the occasional small or medium bowl of whatever until I'm off meds, which is only about 10 days ahead.
Monochromes until then. Tongue bite about gone. As usual when I type, I'm currently chomping on a Phillies Blunt, this time a Strawberry. Tasting okay! Promising!
A bit of eye candy today for you. Rather than a lengthy Skippable Drivel, I'll comment on each picture underneath it. Great adventure yesterday; took the day off with Mike to visit Ernie, a friend of mine who runs a Trailer Park about 15 miles north of Prince George, and decided to, rather than pick up my 2nd picnic table then, to scoot up north and visit one of our favourite fishing haunts, the Crooked River, and take a few pictures. Ernie begged off cuz he was busy, so Mike and I went due north, past Summit Lake, which is the dividing line into the Arctic Watershed, and picked up the table on the way back.
At Summit Lake, all of the outlet rivers and creeks flow north. The Crooked River is the main tributary out of the lake, and is the beginnings of a whole different type of fishing and fish species. Here's a view of the Crooked from a trestle bridge at the 100 Road, where I usually start fishing:
The Crooked is a long river, and eventually empties into the Peace system. This is real northern fishing. Lots of whitefish and some trout, the ubiquitous Squawfish, a grayling or two, and the occasional Northern Pike,but we don't usually get into those until about 25 miles north of this viewpoint, at Bear Lake, where the river widens out into several lakes including Bear, Davie, and a few whose names I can't recall off the top of my head.
The run above was taken from a side road next to the trestle, and the whitefish take a fly readily, especially during a hatch. I usually target them with a #2 or #3 rod, and tiny midge flies, usually in the #18 or 20 range.
If a big dolly is spotted, I'll change to a #5 rod and a #10-12 nymph. Now, THAT is fun!!
Here's Mike, just below the trestle. He does about everything the opposite of me. He smokes while he eats, clenches a pipe at task, and while an excellent photographer, uses a cellphone for the most part now. He also hangs out with the guys and yaps rather than getting down to business with a rod. I Just don't get it, and almost always go off by myself and catch 90% of the fish.
This is the first run I usually start to fish seriously, about 100 yards below where Mike is standing in the picture above. Notice the chem trail. Yah, here too. Prince George Airport is one of only 6 airports in the world that has a runway large enough to accomodate the US Space Shuttle - apparently by design, in conjunction with the Baldy Hughes Airforce Station (now defunct, or rather has become a drop in drug rehabilitation center, for the past 25 years of wokeness.)
The picture above is the tail end of the flats just below where Mike is standing. This is the picture that disturbed me the most. Fish were jumping ALL OVER THE PLACE. Medium size whitefish and several nice trout. Even a burbot was spotted. These species are usually in the run 100 yards farther down, with smaller fish above in the pictured run. And here they were now, at the sideroad just below the tresle. AND GUESS WHO DIDN'T HAVE HIS FLYRODS ALONG? I mean, this is like going on a picnic and taking your pipe but leaving the tobacco at home. Just dumb as a bag of hammers.
As a consequence of all this, it is very likely that a bunch of us will be doing a return engagement to the aforementioned Davie Lake, basically a 3 mile long widening of the Crooked River, at which one of our fishing/shooting/smoking crowd has a cabin which is about to be invaded. After shooting my brains out at the range tomorrow (where I haven't been since my operation 6 weeks ago) I plan on joining them for 4 or 5 days. And catching their limits cuz they'll be yapping.
If I disappear for half a week or so, you'll know why. Most of my berry picking helpers are back from their long weekend now, and they'll be delighted to continue the task for me. My little freezer is full.
To be continued . . . . . .
Monochromes until then. Tongue bite about gone. As usual when I type, I'm currently chomping on a Phillies Blunt, this time a Strawberry. Tasting okay! Promising!
A bit of eye candy today for you. Rather than a lengthy Skippable Drivel, I'll comment on each picture underneath it. Great adventure yesterday; took the day off with Mike to visit Ernie, a friend of mine who runs a Trailer Park about 15 miles north of Prince George, and decided to, rather than pick up my 2nd picnic table then, to scoot up north and visit one of our favourite fishing haunts, the Crooked River, and take a few pictures. Ernie begged off cuz he was busy, so Mike and I went due north, past Summit Lake, which is the dividing line into the Arctic Watershed, and picked up the table on the way back.
At Summit Lake, all of the outlet rivers and creeks flow north. The Crooked River is the main tributary out of the lake, and is the beginnings of a whole different type of fishing and fish species. Here's a view of the Crooked from a trestle bridge at the 100 Road, where I usually start fishing:
The Crooked is a long river, and eventually empties into the Peace system. This is real northern fishing. Lots of whitefish and some trout, the ubiquitous Squawfish, a grayling or two, and the occasional Northern Pike,but we don't usually get into those until about 25 miles north of this viewpoint, at Bear Lake, where the river widens out into several lakes including Bear, Davie, and a few whose names I can't recall off the top of my head.
The run above was taken from a side road next to the trestle, and the whitefish take a fly readily, especially during a hatch. I usually target them with a #2 or #3 rod, and tiny midge flies, usually in the #18 or 20 range.
If a big dolly is spotted, I'll change to a #5 rod and a #10-12 nymph. Now, THAT is fun!!
Here's Mike, just below the trestle. He does about everything the opposite of me. He smokes while he eats, clenches a pipe at task, and while an excellent photographer, uses a cellphone for the most part now. He also hangs out with the guys and yaps rather than getting down to business with a rod. I Just don't get it, and almost always go off by myself and catch 90% of the fish.
This is the first run I usually start to fish seriously, about 100 yards below where Mike is standing in the picture above. Notice the chem trail. Yah, here too. Prince George Airport is one of only 6 airports in the world that has a runway large enough to accomodate the US Space Shuttle - apparently by design, in conjunction with the Baldy Hughes Airforce Station (now defunct, or rather has become a drop in drug rehabilitation center, for the past 25 years of wokeness.)
The picture above is the tail end of the flats just below where Mike is standing. This is the picture that disturbed me the most. Fish were jumping ALL OVER THE PLACE. Medium size whitefish and several nice trout. Even a burbot was spotted. These species are usually in the run 100 yards farther down, with smaller fish above in the pictured run. And here they were now, at the sideroad just below the tresle. AND GUESS WHO DIDN'T HAVE HIS FLYRODS ALONG? I mean, this is like going on a picnic and taking your pipe but leaving the tobacco at home. Just dumb as a bag of hammers.
As a consequence of all this, it is very likely that a bunch of us will be doing a return engagement to the aforementioned Davie Lake, basically a 3 mile long widening of the Crooked River, at which one of our fishing/shooting/smoking crowd has a cabin which is about to be invaded. After shooting my brains out at the range tomorrow (where I haven't been since my operation 6 weeks ago) I plan on joining them for 4 or 5 days. And catching their limits cuz they'll be yapping.
If I disappear for half a week or so, you'll know why. Most of my berry picking helpers are back from their long weekend now, and they'll be delighted to continue the task for me. My little freezer is full.
To be continued . . . . . .
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Ashton Artisan’s Blend in an S. Bang “B” bent brandy.
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