So it was, no big rides (well no rides that involve driving anywhere) in the calendar so time to drag out the genesis for local blast duties, not a long ride but some training all the same but as it would turn out it was more puncture repair training than actual riding...... 5 miles in after a joyful delight demolishing a road warrior up a steep bank came the first disaster, one big thorn and half a branch spinning with my tyre, great, tyre off, new tube in, off I go.....after a delightful 2 miles of super deep mud I pull out onto my next road section with the feeling that something isn't quite feeling the way it should; putting power to the pedals the rear of the bike feels like its on ice; a quick glance confirms that puncture two has decided to attack. Now here the puncture repair joys become a more complex and overall more entertaining affair; it's time to try the dubious spare!! We all have one, the tube in the garage with multiple repairs that gets taken along for just this moment and get presto, it holds air!! But will it last?? 1 mile of road joys over I drop onto a nice little bit if gravel single track through some bushes, as speed build and smiles begin to form on my fed up face it becomes apparent I'm using way more energy here than normal for a very slight decent, wye glance down number 3; it appears the masterfully fitted dubious tube has failed me!! No problem I think, find hole and repair and this I do; refit and pssssshhhhhhh....the heart sinks as the pump is removed and a snapped valve sits staring up at me in a slightly apologetic manor. BOLLOCKS! I retrieve punctured tube number 1 from my bag and make the required repairs (it's cold, raining a little and my hands are filthy so this isn't going to go well) and in 5min my tyre is inflated and a decision made to head for home, not far to go so shouldn't be too bad if I blast out a road section and head along the coast track. Perfect. It was not to be as simple as first expected as I'm sure from this delightful passage is all ready clear, both tyres now have slows so every 1km means another pumping session until I reach the coffee shop about 1 mile from the house, black coffee outside in the rain; what a delight after a shitter of a ride, sitting thick of clay mud sipping hot coffee (best coffee in the area) looking out into the grim North Sea. Caffeine hit reached and it's time for the last sprint, monster pressures applied to tyres, legs in full bore piston mode an I'm off, renthals swaying side to side like a kid on a bmx, grass mounds now form jumps and small walls are now my rampage drops; the hardtail suddenly makes sense! All negative "how shit are these continentals" thoughts have vanished! I'm blasting an urban trail, on my HT and loving it!! Perhaps after all the chew with tires this ride was worthwhile if only for this last mile! Bloody great! Pull onto the drive just as tires reach a pressure too low to ride and relax! Kit dumped in washer ready for the wife, bacon on the grill and the collective roam on the TV; what a perfect start to the day!