Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro (5 Years Old)
Binder: Cameroon
Filler: Dominican
Size: 7.1 x 58 “Salomon”
Body: Medium/Full
Price: $20.00 MSRP

This stick has been in my humidor since Jesus was an apprentice carpenter. I don’t remember when I bought it, but it has been in my humidor for quite a while…at least a year or longer.

The Salomon shape must no longer be available or was a very small batch that was sold on a limited basis. I did find some on an old Cbid auction and they went for $17. So who knows what the retail was.

The original Black Dragon was an extremely expensive and limited cigar that went on sale in 2006. The cigar of Sheiks and drug dealers. Only 500 cigars were produced. And only 5 humidor chests of 100 each were made. The humidors were ornate with hand carvings. The chest was made of carved camel bone and brass. Gurkha didn’t build the chests, but rather, bought them on auction in India. The chests went for $115,000. Wow. No info on what the actual chest was worth, but that makes it $115 per cigar. Yikes. I assume it was a very good cigar.

Over a year later, Gurkha decided to produce this cigar for the masses. The tobacco was the same but the aging process was shortened dramatically. Years, instead of decades.

If you go to CI, they sell a Gurkha Status Salomon for $5. Clearly, not the same cigar. But I search engine the hell out of the Salomon size and could not find even a single review. Did I get the only one on the planet? Or was it so bad, no one bothered?
Let’s see.

The wrapper is somewhat rustic looking. It has a slight oily sheen and just a bit of tooth. Seams are looking pretty good and there are hardly any veins. The cap line is invisible so I have no idea how many there are. A very well made cigar. Not a single ding or loose piece of wrapper in all this time.

I smell for aromas and get huge doses of cocoa, earth, creaminess, cinnamon, clove, and leather. Actually, the clove is very strong.
I have clipped the cap and time to light up.

Meaty and earthy are my first impressions. The baking spices of cinnamon and clove are prevalent as well. There is some black spice trying to kick start in the back ground. And the tiny foot is bellowing smoke like a 3 alarm fire.

There are also hints of coffee and cocoa. There is strong tobacco sweetness. It seems to have the profile of a Nicaraguan cigar but I have just started so things will probably change a lot.

This is definitely a chewy cigar. The char line is pretty close to dead nuts. Not bad for a cigar living in my humidor for who knows how long.
At the one inch mark, the spice springs up. It is red pepper, not black. It gets stronger but the puff. I imagine this cigar will take over two hours to smoke. So I shall write another post anecdote about the Griffgator and our exploits on the road again.

As I come close to the end of the first third, the body is classic medium and some creaminess joins the fold.

The first third ends with the flavoring being more subtle. I still enjoyed the cocoa, coffee. Baking spices, sweetness, leather, and creaminess, but they had become complex now. Forming a coalition front.

I didn’t expect to like this cigar as much as I do. Why? Because of having it so long and not being as attentive to humidity as I should. I was afraid the wrapper would go to shit or the tobacco would taste funny. But the humidor aging has done it proud. The cap is wondrous in that not a single piece of loose tobacco escapes. The char line is perfect. And the draw is more than I could wish for. Just perfect. The mixture of flavor and strength is on the money.
As of late, I’ve gone back to my humidors to find sticks I forgot about. Ones with a lot of age on them and review them. I have been rewarded magnificently. And this is no different. It is a great cigar.

Now the price…I don’t remember how I got it but I didn’t pay $17. I believe it was one of those special deals of the day where I bought a 5 pack for $50 or something like that. It was a long time ago. This stick is definitely worth $10, but in my financial state, I could never afford it at $17, or more.
Speaking of which…where is Cbid getting them from? I search engined the crap out of this cigar and could only find reviews of the Black Dragon. But NOT ONE single review of the Salomon. How odd.

I approach the halfway point and the Nicaraguan look-alike contest is over. The flavors change so that it no longer has strictly Nic flavor profiles.
This cigar is a smooth as silk. The flavor has a very long finish and the balance is just crazy good. It is no longer a laundry list of flavors, but rather, this one giant flavor that is put together to be one. Sort of a Zen thing.

The red pepper is there and just where I like it. Not overpowering but ever present. The creaminess, sweetness, and leather make a nice combo. At the halfway point, the cigar is still medium bodied.

The last third begins and the cigar is one of the most flavorful and unique cigars I’ve smoked. I am dumbfounded by its complexity and well-rounded profile. It had become the perfect cigar…in my eyes, of course.

The spice was all but gone leaving such delicious flavors that I realized I now knew what Kaisad Hansotia knew. The cigar continues to have the perfect burn line. I cannot deduct any points or have any criticisms to make.

I am basking in the glory of the last couple inches. While I feel a bit of the nicotine, the actual body does not go above medium. Probably due to my extensive humidor time. The cigar mellowed.

I would love to get a hold of some more Salomons…and I will probably try the regular sized Black Dragons. And then put them to sleep for a long nap.

I just checked Cbid and they have a buy it now price for $40 for 10. Wow.

And now for something completely different:

The Griffgator….A mighty man of steel who could leap higher than the tallest ant hill, faster than a speeding old lady with a walker, and kind to small dogs everywhere.

It was 1976…I was about to be fired by the band. Politics. The latest studio album was rejected by RCA. First, Miles Copeland hired an inept engineer to produce the band. And the strong willed, and egotistical band, walked all over him. The band was high during most of the recording and the producer allowed dealers into the studio.

So the music was sloppy. Me too. Not all the time, but here and there. I only had one song on the album that I had written. The rest were written by the team of Way/Kristina.

A meeting was held and new producers were brought in. The problem had to be rooted out. So of course, the problem was me. Not the song writing. Not the singing. Not the production. It was the bass player’s fault. Plus I had acted as go between in the two camps battling it out over everything: Darryl and Mick vs. Stewart and Sonja. I would be like a messenger trying to smooth things over so it was only natural that they kill the messenger.

The Griff had become my best friend while in London. The first year in the band, Stew was my best friend but he drifted away. The Griff always stood by me and we hung out.

I found that I liked the band’s roadies better than the band. Down to earth guys you can talk to and have a good time. The band had giant sticks up their asses.

I knew something was up when our agent, the infamous Ian Copeland, called me and wanted to come out to Edgeware and see me. Ian never visited the band; they had to go see him. Ian was made our personal manager even though he ran the booking agency part of the BTM conglomerate. Ian was a great guy.

An Ex-marine who served a couple tours in Viet Nam. Constantly smoked weed. And really fun to be with. 180 degrees different from his brother, Miles.

I called Sonja to find out what Ian was coming to see me about and she broke down and told me I was to be fired.

I was heartbroken.
When Ian showed, we sat in my living room and he tried to make small talk. I felt sorry for him. And I said, “Ian, I know why you are here..it’s to kick my ass out of the band.”

His face dropped and he stared at the carpet and nodded. Ian liked me and he knew I was getting the short end of the stick on this new policy. We talked for a while and he avoided responding to my question about how they would take care of me until I got back on my feet and found another band.
It turned out the band decided not to pay me a dime and all of a sudden, I was broke.

I went to one of their rehearsals with the new bassist and pleaded with them. I was supporting a girlfriend and her 2 year old daughter that had taken a chance and came with me to Europe.

Darryl wouldn’t even talk to me. What had I done? Nothing. That was my sin.

I went home dejected and Griff was there waiting for me. He and the other roadies had heard what happened and were furious. Griff gathered up our regular, and on stand-by roadies…about six of them….got a big lorry and went to the BTM Records warehouse.

There, they piled the inside of the box truck with as much musical gear as they could stuff into it…and brought it to my flat.

Griff hugged me and as he did, Beric opened the back of the truck. Inside, were amps, speaker cabs, guitars, basses, PA systems, lighting and assorted other equipment.

He said, “This is for you to sell so you have some dough in your pocket.”

I broke into tears. Griff hugged me again. Everything was unloaded into my garage. And over the next month, I placed ads in Melody Maker and sold everything.

I had heard that the managing director of BTM ordered the roadies to take my bass away. My beloved 1968 Fender Precision bass that I bought from Martin Turner of Wishbone Ash. Of course, the roadies ignored him.

He gave this order before knowing what the roadies had done for me. When management found out what the roadies did, they were beyond livid but did nothing.
They owed me a lot of money for record royalties and playing royalties and would not pony up a dime.
With the money I got from the equipment, I was able to stay in England a couple more months and even joined a band. But the money was going fast; so I bought three airplane tickets home.

I carry a grudge. Yeah, it was almost 40 years ago, but what they did to me was unforgivable. I even had the chance to tell of Sonja after all these years just months ago in an email. It felt good.

The band did one more album and then imploded. No Phil to keep the peace from the warring factions and everything fell apart. Haha. Sons of bitches deserved it.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS