We were keeping pace pretty well with all those single racers,
and even out in front of a bunch of them,
when whomp!, our front
tire hit a big pothole, and we went flying! Wouldn’t you think those french people who organized the race would fill up all the potholes
before they let a few thousand bicycle tires run into them?

Anyway, Ned’s hands were clipped a few times by a few of the racers,
and I had a terrible scrape on my forehead and gravel bits imbedded in my knee.
Ned took me to the emergency room, and I ended up ok. Ned’s wrists had to be
put in casts, but it was no big deal. We protested to the officials that the whole thing reeked of
unfairness, especially for us as tandem riders and Americans,
but they answered with some french gobbilty
gook, and sent us on our way with only a pat on the back. We didn’t even get our
entry fee refunded! So we left France on a less than high note.