Fetch Me A Virgin
Out on the 'cross bike, clartering down the track of many ruts and rocks and I proper ptong off Something Big.
Enough to clack my teeth and stop the bike at the bottom to spin the front wheel inspecting for deserved buckles and dents, check the tyre for rips and a bulging tumor of inner-tube, and look worryingly at the forks.
Not a thing.
Blimey, I think I got away with that one.
Several hours later at home, sitting in the front room with a post-ride cup of tea and a bun and there's a soft farting noise from round the corner. The front tyre is gently going down as the tube nip from that ptong finally gives way .
Thank you oh gracious Puncture Gods, oh thank you.
Time to offer up a sacrifice of gratitude.