My own personal hopes lay in my motor. Judge of my surprise, therefore, upon arriving at Rheims, to learn that Bleriot, who had probably heard through newspaper reports that I was bringing over an eight-cylinder motor, had himself installed an eight-cylinder motor of eighty horse-power in one of his light monoplanes. When I learned this, I believed my chances were very slim indeed, if in fact they had not entirely disappeared. The monoplane is generally believed to be faster than the biplane with equal power. I had just one aeroplane and one motor; if I smashed either of these it would be all over with America's chances in the first International Cup Race. I had not the reserve equipment to bring out a new machine as fast as one was smashed, as Bleriot and other Frenchmen had. Incidentally, there were many of them smashed during the big meet on the Plain of Bethany. At one time, while flying, I saw as many as twelve machines strewn about the field, some wrecked and some disabled and being hauled slowly back to the hangars, by hand or by horses. For obvious reasons, therefore, I kept out of the duration contests and other events, flying only in such events as were for speed, and of a distance not to exceed twenty kilometers, which was the course for the Gordon Bennett contest in 1909. It is hard enough for any one to map out a course of action and stick to it, particularly in the face of the desires of one's friends; but it is doubly hard for an aviator to stay on the ground waiting for just the right time to get into the air. It was particularly hard for me to keep out of many events at Rheims held from day to day, especially as there were many patriotic Americans there who would have liked to see America's only representative take part in everything on the programme. I was urged by many of these to go out and contest the Frenchmen for the rich prizes offered and it was hard to refuse to do this. These good friends did not realise the situation. America's chances could not be imperilled for the sake of gratifying one's curiosity, or national pride. On top of the urgings of my American friends to go out and fly and take chances of having a whole machine when the day for the Gordon Bennett should arrive, I was penalised for not starting in the speed race, the Prix de la Vitesse, the penalty being one-twentieth of the time made when I should start in this event. However, I made a number of trial flights and ten official ones, during the meet, without mishap, except a sprained ankle. This was the result of running through growing grain at the time of landing and being thrown out of the machine. I was also fortunate in being the only aviator who took part in this first big meet to land at the hangar after each flight.