Blog by Steve Laug

The evening was exactly right for the christening smoke in my new Dunhill 3108. I was sitting on the front porch of the cabin in Pt. Roberts Washington. Pt. Roberts is only accessible by going through Canada and then re-entering the US. The sky was overcast a bit with the moon peeking through the clouds. The evening air was crisp and clean, with just a faint tang of the ocean in the breeze. I sat back in the Adirondack chair with my feet up, a bottle of Negra Modelo – a Mexican Amber Ale and the new Dunhill in hand. I held it and looked at it carefully enjoying the feel of the shape in my hand. On the arm of the chair I had a couple of tins of tobacco as I was still deciding on the first smoke. I cracked the tin of Anniversary and took a deep breath taking in the tang of the Virginia in it, the spiciness of Perique. I closed the lid. I opened the tin of Dunhill’s Elizabethan Mixture and did the same…. decisions. Finally I clumped together the first bit of EM and stuffed it into the bowl, the second bit went in, the final bit tucked in and tamped just so with my forefinger.

I held the bowl in my hand and sniffed the smell of the new briar and the tobacco melding together. I struck the first match and charred the load, then tamped and gave it a good light. The taste of that smoke coming into my mouth, the cloud of it that hung in the night air all lent a special nose to the evening. I just sat back and enjoyed the moment, lost in the first smoke. The tobacco burned well, effortlessly really as the bowl warmed to the touch. The blast on the briar radiated the warmth to the hand in the chill air. It was one of those moments when all the senses combine for a great experience. The tobacco taste and smell, the warmth of the briar in the hand, the smoke in the air curling around the pillars of the porch, the sound of the fire crackling away at the tobacco in the bowl all combined for a moment in which I just disappeared for a time.

The bowl lasted 30 minutes maybe more, I lost track of time really. The magic of the smoke was such that I really mentally left the confines of the porch all together. Lost in thought, living in the sensory moment, was a joy. The tobacco burned slowly and evenly to the bottom of the bowl as I enjoyed the mellow taste of good Virginias and the slight spice of Perique melding in the smoke. The briar was warm but not hot all the way through the smoke, it felt good in the hand and against the cheek occasionally…. as the smoke thinned and the fire reached the end of the tobacco in the bowl, the smoke came to an end… I just sat for a bit thinking and tasting the flavor on my lips and gums… this is pipe smoking at its best….

Probably should go in now… getting cold… seeing my breath…