I noted Brewdude's comments regarding the many and sundry applications of 5-Brothers. It's always great to see someone experimenting with techniques that provide solutions...ways to help make things better. Smoking wet Stonehaven has always been an issue for me, not in the early stages of the bowl, but in the end game. But I think getting a good start is part of the overall solution. I've got some Warrior Plug (Murrey's) is hard as granite but still easily sliced...and the brittle nature of the plug has resulted in there being a fair amount of 'shake' in the bottom of the bag. This stuff is very fine and indeed acts like the already mentioned 'gunpowder', even though the Warrior doesn't need it so much...guess I should save it for something that does.
The use of this technique reminds me of a guy I used to know. More on that in a sec.
I've also heard this called 'flash' - for obvious reasons I guess - by some of the old foggies that I used to work with outdoors when I was a kid. Though most of those guys smoked cigarettes, lilely due to having been in the military (WWII), there were a few that smoked pipes - which was far more common then (mid-60's). Also unlike today, back then my eyes were occasionally bigger than my mouth. This was perhaps due to my trying to be like one foggie who sort of took me under his wing. He was a quiet one too. I pretty much idolized him as he had once played pro ball for the regional baseball team (the Portland Beavers no less)...third base...name of Bob Kruger. But for some reason he never wore a ball cap...just an old brown fedora, and never while he was working. Parted his hair down the middle. Wore suspenders and long sleeved plaid shirts with the top neck button always buttoned, even in summer. He'd roll up his sleeves when he was working and the guy's forearms were thick and ropey. His muscles and tendons a testimony to the years of intense heavy labor. When he came over to help us on our place (especially in the Spring he's come over to help clean up in our woods...gather in all the fir limbs that had fallen during the winter, saw them into kindling and pile the rest of the 'slash' up for the traditional bonfire...an event of high excitement). My mom would always buy a sixpack of Blitz beer and give him a can to drink with his lunch. He was the ONLY guy I ever saw her serve alcohol to...which added to the awe. I'd wait til he ate his sandwich (always first) and then settle in to watch while he loaded his pipe, a cob, then dig into the bottom for the gunpowder. He'd get it all ready and then pick up the can, which by this time was beaded with fat drops of condensed water, rub the wet can back and forth across his forehead like a metal washcloth I guess, then pop open the can. He'd take a long pull and then torch that pipe up with a wood match he'd light by flicking it on a suspender buckle. Lord, the cloud of smoke he'd make smelled good. I didn't know it then, but later discovered it was Edgeworth. Maybe that's one reason I tend toward modern, and better, blends that approximate Edgeworth in one way or another...often smoke a cob...don't find hard work offensive (so long as there's a point to it)...still have a profound love for baseball...typically wear a fedora, etc.
It's funny the things that you remember...the odd little pieces of memory that stick. One thing there's no surprise about is the host of older guys like Mr. Kruger and others that taught me what it was to be a man. Without going into aditional sentimental slobbering, I'll just suggest that if we profess a love of our pipes and all, it would be good to pass some of that along to the younger ones out there, as much by example and positive leadership as by rhetoric. (ahem) Yes, well, I guess it's time for me to cut the rhetoric and get to gettin'!
So with that I'll leave you to your holiday, hopefully with family and good times to enjoy.
The use of this technique reminds me of a guy I used to know. More on that in a sec.
I've also heard this called 'flash' - for obvious reasons I guess - by some of the old foggies that I used to work with outdoors when I was a kid. Though most of those guys smoked cigarettes, lilely due to having been in the military (WWII), there were a few that smoked pipes - which was far more common then (mid-60's). Also unlike today, back then my eyes were occasionally bigger than my mouth. This was perhaps due to my trying to be like one foggie who sort of took me under his wing. He was a quiet one too. I pretty much idolized him as he had once played pro ball for the regional baseball team (the Portland Beavers no less)...third base...name of Bob Kruger. But for some reason he never wore a ball cap...just an old brown fedora, and never while he was working. Parted his hair down the middle. Wore suspenders and long sleeved plaid shirts with the top neck button always buttoned, even in summer. He'd roll up his sleeves when he was working and the guy's forearms were thick and ropey. His muscles and tendons a testimony to the years of intense heavy labor. When he came over to help us on our place (especially in the Spring he's come over to help clean up in our woods...gather in all the fir limbs that had fallen during the winter, saw them into kindling and pile the rest of the 'slash' up for the traditional bonfire...an event of high excitement). My mom would always buy a sixpack of Blitz beer and give him a can to drink with his lunch. He was the ONLY guy I ever saw her serve alcohol to...which added to the awe. I'd wait til he ate his sandwich (always first) and then settle in to watch while he loaded his pipe, a cob, then dig into the bottom for the gunpowder. He'd get it all ready and then pick up the can, which by this time was beaded with fat drops of condensed water, rub the wet can back and forth across his forehead like a metal washcloth I guess, then pop open the can. He'd take a long pull and then torch that pipe up with a wood match he'd light by flicking it on a suspender buckle. Lord, the cloud of smoke he'd make smelled good. I didn't know it then, but later discovered it was Edgeworth. Maybe that's one reason I tend toward modern, and better, blends that approximate Edgeworth in one way or another...often smoke a cob...don't find hard work offensive (so long as there's a point to it)...still have a profound love for baseball...typically wear a fedora, etc.
It's funny the things that you remember...the odd little pieces of memory that stick. One thing there's no surprise about is the host of older guys like Mr. Kruger and others that taught me what it was to be a man. Without going into aditional sentimental slobbering, I'll just suggest that if we profess a love of our pipes and all, it would be good to pass some of that along to the younger ones out there, as much by example and positive leadership as by rhetoric. (ahem) Yes, well, I guess it's time for me to cut the rhetoric and get to gettin'!
So with that I'll leave you to your holiday, hopefully with family and good times to enjoy.
