A Prepper's Introduction to Pipe Smoking
An afternoon well-spent with the wise and mysterious Apocalyptic Cowboy.
On a recent Friday, I joined a friend for lunch at Osaka Chinese Buffet in South Knoxville. This friend will not allow me to reveal his identity because he recently paid a company several thousand dollars to erase his presence from the internet. To honor his wishes, I have chosen to refer to him now and forever in this publication as the Apocalyptic Cowboy.
Chowing down on cheap hibachi and black-pepper chicken at an establishment that makes you question the credibility of health scores has been a tradition AC and I have enjoyed since the genesis of our friendship about seven years ago. Another favorite activity of ours is pipe smoking, which we typically do while tying flies for fishing.
The first time AC invited me over to smoke was shortly after we bonded at a CrossFit gym over our shared love of ribs and hatred of cardio workouts. Walking in through the garage, I went to pull out my pipe. Before I could, he raised his hand to my chest, halting my advance. I looked up and saw swords, bows, old rifles, and other weapons hanging from the walls. Splayed out on a table was a pistol he’d been cleaning. “First,” he said, “you must answer a question.” He motioned to a 32-gallon garbage can in the corner, then mozied over, signaling that I should follow. He tipped the lid over to reveal a variety of axes, cudgels, rigged-up 2x4s, and baseball bats with large construction nails driven through the barrel.
“Hypothetically speaking,” he said, “if the electrical grid were to fall and you had to defend yourself against armed intruders, which of these would you choose?”
I’ve learned at least two things from my father: that I should never hesitate to make a decision and, that if offered a choice of weapon, I should select the largest one on the table. I pointed to the axe. AC nodded in approval. "That'll keep the Bad Guys out," he said, dryly. "Now, let's get down to business."
We lit up, and as we smoked, we revealed things about our lives, as men do when tobacco and liquor are present. When it comes to conversation, I prefer to swim in the deep end of the pool. I was glad to discover that AC did, too.
After a while, he put down his pipe and looked at me sternly. "Alright," he said. "I feel sufficiently confident that you aren't a government spy. Come with me." He then led me down the hallway to an antique bookcase filled with old hardcovers, some leatherbound, by authors such as Theodore Roosevelt and Winston Churchill, about topics including Viking lore and medieval battle tactics. He pushed the case aside to reveal a false wall leading to a secret room where he kept many other toys I am not permitted to list because he knows among my readers are liberals who will likely rat him out to the police.
I can say this. Despite owning more firearms than France and filling his cellar with enough ammo, MREs, and survival gear to make it through any calamity unscathed, AC has told me many times not to go to his house if the world were to end because he'd sure hate to shoot me dead on his front lawn, seeing that, as a writer, I possess no valuable skills to contribute in a post-apocalyptic society. And yet, he has become one of my closest friends, the first I call when the going gets tough or I need to rant without judgment (in part, because knowing the magnitude of his own FBI file, I'm confident he's unlikely to report me).
Before AC became my friend, the tobacco I bought was cheap, cased in cherry or vanilla flavors, and bought in bulk online. My first pipe was purchased in 2015 at a flea market in Sao Paulo, Brazil. I rarely pulled it out at home, as no babes were there to see how cool I looked smoking it. Instead, I carried it with me to the outdoor patios of Knoxville, lighting up while donning a blazer or sports coat and reading Hemingway. Of course, the babe who did fall in love with me despises tobacco, as well as my behaving like an idiot in public. So, in the years since, I've reserved the practice of smoking for bonding with male friends. And when I get home, Haley usually makes me shower and brush my teeth twice before getting under the covers.
Like men of the past, AC takes pleasure in doling out wisdom and handing out gifts. At this moment, beside my desk are a dozen jars of varying kinds of tobacco, all gifted to me by him. When my brother showed interest in pipe smoking years ago while visiting Knoxville, AC prepared a care package and sent it to him. He's shipped jars of tobacco with instructions for how to enjoy them to friends and strangers on every corner of the continent. If you walk into Smokey's Tobacco and Cigars across from the mall today and purchase a pipe, they will hand you a sheet AC wrote on how beginners should prepare their first smoke.
After filling our bellies at Osaka, AC and I drove to his place of employment, where he keeps a portion of his tobacco collection. I wanted him to teach me something about pipe smoking that I could share with you, my readers, as I've recently grown so disillusioned with Google searches stuffed with SEO garbage and ads and thirsty influencers taking over YouTube that I figured I'd run it back to the days when our primary means of learning anything was from either family or friends.
To me, there's something special about learning from someone who learned from someone else, as opposed to looking up information online only to forget it and have to look it up again a dozen more times before it sticks. It reminds me of the good old days that maybe never really existed but that I long for regardless.
In just this past week, I've spoken to a few other thirty- and forty-something-year-old men who told me they'd inherited pipes from their grandfathers or were curious about smoking tobacco but didn't know where to start. It felt serendipitous, so I wanted to share with you some of what AC taught me as we toured his office, which is covered in classic manly memorabilia as well as quotes he's printed out and pinned to the wall. One quote from J.R.R. Tolkien made me chuckle. "If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world,” it read. I found it ironic, considering that I know for a fact AC has many precious metals buried in secret locations around his property and protected by landmines, which he says are a choice weapon when adversaries are too far to strike with a short sword or recurve bow.
The following is an introductory-level Q&A about pipe smoking. If you find it helpful and want more advanced knowledge with pipe jargon included, you can write me to request copies of AC’s instruction manuals (one for preparing your first pipe, the other specific to cigar smokers exploring pipes for the first time). They've helped me to feel like the old, manly man I knew I was supposed to become since I was a boy. Perhaps you will also find them useful.
Okay, AC. So, let's say someone is an absolute beginner. They're not interested in spending too much money, but they want to feel like their grandpas and not like a loser who spends all day playing on their phone. What should they look for in a pipe?
If you're looking to spend very little money and want something that works well and is easily accessible, Missouri Meerschaum Corn Cob pipes are available in every tobacco store or major retailer. They're usually less than $15. That's the cheapest introductory option.
If you want to try a briar pipe, but still get something that's decent quality and dependable but not overly expensive. You could buy a Savanelli or Peterson, two of the most commonly available factory-made briar pipes in the world. The Petersons are Irish and tend to follow a more muscular, robust Irish or English aesthetic, while the Savanellis are Italian and have more of a trim continental European aesthetic.
The three traditional finishes are smooth, sandblast, and rusticated, which can be cheaper. But it all comes down to preference.
Note from the writer: In Halls, there is a cigar and tobacco store called The Smoke Pit. I felt inspired after talking with AC and went in to buy a new pipe. All of the ones that had the look I wanted—a rusticated maroon finish—were either no-name cheapos that were kept in a drawer at the front of the store or over $130. So I bought a La Rocca, an affordable Italian brand, for about $45.
Alright, now you've got your pipe. You're going to need tobacco. What are the options?
We are living in a golden age for pipe tobacco. What you smoke is purely a personal choice. Some people rant and rave over a particular kind of tobacco that I find gross. So that's my disclaimer. Everyone has different tastes, but I can help guide you toward what you like.
I would say to buy a tobacco from each of the major categories. You could start with an Aromatic, a Virginia or Virginia Perique blend, an English blend with Lattakia, and one Burley blend.
For the aromatic, G.L. Pease's Haddo's Delight is a solid option. But it has a decent amount of nicotine. So, if you're nicotine-sensitive, you may want a lighter option like Lane Limited 1Q. I'm more of a Virginia Perique slash English smoker. For the Virginia, there are hundreds, literally hundreds, of variations. But you could start with G.L. Pease's Union Square. Capstan Blue was allegedly the favorite tobacco of JRR Tolkien; we can’t leave that one out.
What's the difference between a Virginia and Virginia Perique?
Perique is a type of tobacco used in small quantities, about 5% of the total blend volume, added to a base tobacco, like a Virginia. It's only grown in St. James Parish in Louisiana. It's packed into barrels, then put under pressure and aged for a long time to give it a unique, fruity, spicy, peppery characteristic. The most commonly available product in every pipe and tobacco store in this category is Peter Stokkebye's Luxury Navy Flake. But my favorite of all time is Rattray’s Old Gowrie if you can get your hands on it.
Alright, so we've got aromatics and Virginia. What if you hate aromas and prefer other parts of the world?
English blends used to have a formal legal definition in the 1800s, but now the term is broadly used to describe any blend that has Latakia but no artificial flavoring. These blends typically smell like a campfire. The smell can almost border on incense. A blend that's commonly available is G.L. Pease's Abingdon or Westminster. Those are great introductions to the blend category.
Burleys are the easiest for newer pipe smokers to learn on. They typically burn cool and do not give you ‘tongue bite,’ even if you smoke them too hot. The most famous of all time in the American market is Cornell & Diehl's Haunted Bookshop. Another commonly available option is Peter Stokkebye’s Cube Cut. It has a slight chocolate note that always reminds me of hot cocoa.
Okay, you've got your pipe and tobacco in hand. How do you get the party started?
You're gonna want a soft-flame lighter like a Bic, match, or a Zippo. Not a torch lighter; those will burn your pipe. You'll want a tamper to pack down the tobacco; they're a few dollars, and they usually have a scoop to get the ashes out after smoking. Most pipes in American markets don't have filters. If they do, you'll know. Six and nine millimeters are the two major types. You'll also need pipe cleaners and a neutral spirit, like vodka or pure grain alcohol. Dip the pipe cleaner in the alcohol then scrub out the inside of the stem. Don't use straight-up rubbing alcohol.
Is there a way you should pack your pipe? I've always just packed my tobacco in a bag and then shoved it into the bowl.
First, get a bowl or a paper towel. You have to prepare the tobacco; you shouldn't just shove it in. It may need to dry out a little first. Most tobaccos are packed very wet and are not ready for smoking straight out of the tin. How long you let it dry is personal preference. It should still be slightly moist and springy, but not crunchy like autumn leaves. If it's a flake cut, you want to rub the pieces until they're evenly broken up into smaller pieces. You gently pack that into the bowl. Your first pinch should be fairly loose around the draft hole at the bottom of the bowl. For your second pinch, you can put a little pressure on. And then your third pinch of tobacco should fill up the bowl. Use your thumb to firmly press it down. Test the draw to make sure it’s not too tight before lighting. If it is, dump it out and repack it until you get it right.
You don't fill your bowl to the top because when you light the tobacco, it expands upwards. You don't want the tobacco to spill out onto the rim and char it. When the light goes out, tamp down the tobacco with your tool and relight it. Then, you just find your cadence with how often you puff on the pipe.
The pipe is lit, and the tobacco is burning. And after a while, you're all done. How do you properly clean your pipe to prepare it for the next smoke?
When the tobacco is burnt up, use your tool to clean out the bowl. Then, take a paper towel and corkscrew it into the bowl to remove any remaining particles. Once the pipe has cooled down, remove the stem—the part that you smoke out of. Swab out the interior of the stem and the shank with a pipe cleaner dipped in alcohol. It may take a few to get it really clean.
Pipes are made of wood, and wood absorbs moisture. Therefore, you should let the pipe rest for a few days after you smoke it to improve the flavor next time. This is why most serious pipe smokers have a rotation of multiple pipes to ‘rest’ the ones that have been smoked recently. You'll get there eventually—we all do.
Enjoying all your stuff Brian! This one made me want break my pipe out of retirement.
A good read. I’ll stay tuned for AC’s opinions on pocket knives, ready to disagree vociferously.