Just yesterday, I pedaled my Salsa Fargo across a Blue Stem Prairie, along a piece of single track. When I got to the top of the hill and out of the prairie, I stopped to check my tires fort thorns, burrs, and sticks. A jogging Dad and his pedaling daughter stopped and asked what I was doing. The Dad told the daughter to check her tires, too. About 20 minutes later, my rear tire started going flat. Ha! Yep, a tiny pin hole puncture. I usually do that quirky thing you mentioned but, this time, I did not find them all.