The Mystery of the Fast Smoke Competition
By: Nathan Davis
This year, at the Capitaland Pipe Show on 21 June 2025 in Albany, NY, I was informed that having some bigger names associated with the fast smoke competition might increase visibility and participation. Little did I understand, in the moment, that my show co-runner, Eugene Falco—contest manager—meant that he and my wife had signed me up: co-runner of Capitaland, co-host of The Greywoodie Show, and owner of Greywoodie and Kaywoodie. That’s right—I was the “bigger name” we needed involved.
I have assisted in running and judging many of these contests and have seen too many burned-out tongues and sweaty faces to ever want to actually participate in them. I joined the UPCA, eventually becoming Vice President, entirely out of my love for the slow smoke and the camaraderie behind these contests. The fast smoke, to me—while truly entertaining—appeared to be the complete antithesis of the skills I have honed, both here and abroad, participating in slow-smoking contests.
However, in the spirit of support and friendship, I reluctantly agreed to participate, being handed a lovely Missouri Meerschaum Company corn cob pipe with a gorgeous stem. See, I had forgotten the box of contest pipes, and we purchased very nice upgrades for all of the contestants—even before I realized that I would be the lucky recipient of one of these premium corn cob pipes.
Assessing the beautiful pipe, and understanding that these pipes are chosen specifically for their ability to withstand the kind of abuse a fast smoke entails, I quickly realized there might be a better way to participate. I have seen it all before: the use of table pipes, torches, and multi-flame lighters—lighting the whole pipe on fire to try to burn the tobacco faster. I felt like maybe people were overthinking it. After all, the slow smoke comes down almost entirely to cadence. Prepping the tobacco and getting a good light are more important in a slow smoke than in a fast smoke, to create the best environment to slow down—but your cadence will dictate both the speed and how long you can get out of three grams of tobacco.
Accordingly, I approached this daunting task as though I were just doing another slow smoke—only sped up. I carefully prepared the Sutliff Peppermint Mocha, generously provided by Jake McKenna and TobaccoPipes.com prior to their closing. I rolled the tobacco between my palms, separating individual strands and pulverizing the softer ribbons to get a very consistent texture. I loaded any larger pieces first and created a bit of kindling across the top surface. I inspected the pipe, finding a wonderful smoking device with a filter.
On first light, I found myself behind everyone—and quite happy this was not a slow smoke. Something had gone awry in my light, and I did not get a proper charring light. Seeing the other contestants painfully huffing through the bowl, I disassembled my pipe and took a closer look. I removed the filter, as I do not usually use one, and pushed a plug of tobacco from the airway—apparently packing a little too tightly. None of this would fly in a slow smoke, but it was a nice pivot when you realize you can. Next, I set the bowl to a slight angle away from my face so I could keep a constant flame above the tobacco and pull the heat down—just like I prefer to do to light the bowl regularly.
Once the tobacco was burning nicely, I figured cadence could be sped up as well as slowed down. Short puffs immediately expelled from the mouth are quite handy for lighting a bowl in finicky conditions, so I had a feeling it would work over and over again in good conditions to ultra-light this tobacco and burn through it faster. I found myself settling into this very rapid cadence, avoiding tongue bite entirely by expelling the smoke before any significant contact—into one side of the mouth and right out the other.
At this point, I felt like I was going to be able to place, at least—but following the ideas of a slow smoke, I assumed it would not be good enough for a win. To my utter surprise, I suddenly sucked ash. I gave it a little more heat to be sure, dumped my bowl, and called the contest manager over to inspect. In just over three minutes, I was completely out, my tongue did not hurt, and every other contestant gave me the meanest side-eye of my life.
Amazingly, I found a way to win with a wonderful new pipe still in perfect condition. While the rest of the contestants struggled on, I loaded up the McClelland Virginia tobacco I had been about to smoke before being informed I was competing and was able to taste every nuance of this aged tobacco with no harsh side effects from the fast smoke.
I am not saying that this technique will work for everyone—or even for me every time. However, at least once, it got me a possible regional record fast smoke time. Until someone figures out how to make my technique even better, I get to be the fast smoke and slow smoke regional record holder—and may hang up my hat on competing for a little while. If you have been on the fence about the fast smoke, I highly recommend giving it a shot at a regional show or in Chicago. I do believe that the doom and gloom is part of the experience. Being nervous and smoking like a crazy person can be fun—but you can also approach it calmly and consistently without losing your ability to taste tobacco. There is a way to compete no matter how you like to enjoy things.