Sometime ago, a friend of mine seriously asked me what I collected insulators for. Can you imagine such a question? As if it wasn't obvious! As I began to explain this fascinating hobby to him, it became apparent that the subject was really quite extensive, so l felt I had better put some of it down on paper in case I forget myself someday.

For me I think the real driving force is in the acquisition of a needed or certainly wanted insulator. Since I know specific mold styles, embossing varieties, and/or colors exist, the satisfaction of actually obtaining the item and cataloging it is most important to me. Yet once it is on the shelf, I am off and running searching for the next missing link. When I can obtain a previously unknown variety (embossing or color) it is a real thrill. When looking at the displayed insulators and remembering how and where they were obtained is satisfying also. But the pleasure in acquiring a new piece for the collection isn't based just on ownership. 

Obviously, to obtain a new insulator for the collection, the quest must start somewhere. In my case, it begins by referring to detailed topographical maps with a scale of one mile to the inch. The general locating of the telegraph lines is relatively easy once I locate the existing or abandoned railway lines. Similarly power line corridors leading to abandoned mines, quarries, and bush camps can also usually be determined. A single circuit phone line often followed these small power lines, sometimes secured to the same poles. This planning of a trip and preparing for the search has a degree of excitement in it also. Going to a new area and trying to locate old pole stumps, wire, and whatever is a real challenge but very satisfying when successful. The actual drive to the chosen location can be a bit boring and certainly expensive but once there another enjoyable realm of the hobby begins.

Eric leisurely on his way to hunt for insulators.

By walking down power corridors, telegraph and phone lines, contact with nature is a tremendous experience, especially when in isolated country. Sometimes it is the scenery or rocks, trees and lakes. Other times it may be the awesome silence that can engulf an area when one pauses for a rest. Contact with nature also refers to wildlife sightings. Maybe it's only a swamp turtle trying to crawl over the railway tracks, or a mating pair of partridge rustling in the bush. Sometimes it's coming onto the remains of a timber wolf, or being scared out of your wits by a startled deer jumping to safety. It can even be simply watching a field mouse scurry home with the remains of my orange peel. No matter how the contact, it is one of just silently and passively walking through an area without harming or destroying what naturally lives there.

The physical exertion of a long walk in the bush, or climbing up and down poles is of course tiring yet refreshing. The sore feet, tired back, scratched hands and sunburned face all combine to give a feeling of doing a good days work even if it is only a hobby. In fact I often feel exhilarated several hours after I return home, with renewed energy to go for a walk or bike ride. Rarely can I sit at home in the evening after a days outing.

Then there is the real human element in the hobby. The dealers, traders, fellow collectors and diggers all combine to form a cohesive, amiable group. Often separated by many hundreds or thousands of miles and still being able to talk like long lost friends. In my case because there is no one with whom I can readily hobby with in my area, maybe I appreciate the comradery even more. I don't know, but there is a bond among us for sure. Just stand in the motel parking lot as vehicles roll in for a National or Regional show and watch collectors greet each other. Or at dinner later, listen to collectors who haven't seen each other in years talk like it was only yesterday that they made an insulator deal together.

Maybe this human element can best be seen when I travel to a new town and call a collector whom I have never met before. Dollars to donuts he invites me over to see his collection and the next two hours, it seems, go by in minutes while we talk insulators. And when I think of all the nice glass out there in some of the col- lections that I have seen...WOW! Really nice stuff, not buried in some dump or lost forever under the ground, but preserved for maybe all time, for many to admire.

The research into the history and manufacture of insulators can also provide a sense of satisfaction when one begins to understand the evolution of a particular style. In Canada, unfortunately, it appears as if there has been very little data saved regarding manufacturer catalogs, etc. This is partially offset by biographies on many of the men involved in the early development of the telegraph and phone industries. 

The anticipation of next month's CROWN JEWELS arriving, is of course, an upper in itself. The collectors themselves form the pages but CROWN JEWELS is the glue that holds it all together. The anxious scan of the sale ads, the slow detailed reading of the letters and articles are all great. Hardly a comma goes unread as I try and absorb all the information, then regularly flip through the pages until the following month's issue arrives.

Then there are the insulators themselves. The shapes, colors, embossings, errors, and oddities all combine to form an unlimited range of interest and collectibility. Or maybe it's the go-withs such as signs, wire, equipment, tools or whatever. Sometimes it's the humor in seeing a clear and dirty CD 154 Dominion-42 at an antique store for sale at $3 and a mint CD 105 at a garage sale for $3. Maybe it's the pleasure of trading insulators with another collector so each one's collection is enhanced. The unexpected phone call from a dealer offering you a scarce piece for the collection starts the heart a pounding for sure. It can never arrive soon enough. Then there is the degree of pride when the local museum asks if they can display a small sampling of your insulators again for another year. 

The hobby has given me so much pleasure over the years, it's hard to tell where all the fun comes from. My friend is now wishing he had never asked the question in the first place as he drags me away from the display shelves. He wants to borrow some tools in the garage. Little does he suspect that I have a bunch of insulators stored out there too!