I arrived in Houston in Fall, 1962 as a college freshman. I was fresh from a summer of riding everywhere around Washington DC, and was really depressed by the college and the heat and the provincialism. But, they did have an annual intramural bike race. So, I started training on the Varsity 3-speeds, 52 by 14, times 1.33 for the high gear = 133 inch gear. Builds Big Thighs. I couldn't get pants that fit right for a couplee of years till I learned to spin.
So I'm barreling down the street and the kid in the beat-up convertible pulls up and offers to sell his racing bike. turns out it is a Sears Ted Williams with Campy gran sport, and needs wheel work.
There was a bike shop, I think called University Bicycles, in The Village, so they rebuilt the wheels. And helped me understand the whole kit and caboodle. It was a Schwinn shop. The cam-type brake quick- releases for the Weinmann 999 CP brakes were not necessary in flat Houston, they explained. They were used for drag brakes in the mountains. Right. But, the wheels were trued, lovely Belgian Weinmanns, eventually shod with Dunlop Road Racers. Also a Great Normandy rear hub with the left flange as far to the left as possible. No tension at all on the left spokes, and no life expectancy at all for the right ones, which pinged a pretty high note. Pity that one rim blew out when I let a gas jockey put the hose to it. Rim got real wide at one spot when the tire blew.
About that time, I was out on a training ride toward midnight one day, coming back toward campus on Bellaire Blvd or one of the other big streets which was almost deserted and had great timed traffic lights. Finally had to stop for a light I missed, and a drunk pulled up alongside. I guess he had noticed the 4" reflector mounted under the saddle, cause he yelled out, "Hey, Buddy, Your A****e's on fire. Midnight was cooler, but safer it was not.
Night before the first year's race, I got a panic call. Most folks were still on the 3-speed Varsitys, but someone had another 10-speed, and was desperately looking for the master link for the chain. I might have had the only chain tool in captivity.
The Sears got stolen in summer of '63 in DC, and replaced with an Avanti with round fork blades, and all campy except (of course) brakes. They didn't tell me that the sew-ups weren't glued on, but I got most of the way to work before rolling the tire and ruining some pants. That week I also got shoes and cleats. First ride was out Connecticut Ave. in Friday afternoon rush hour. Fell over at two successive red lights before I learned to loosen the straps.
The next year, I tried to get the Raleigh franchise for Houston, but they decided a kid who wanted to sell super Courses out of a dorm room wasn't a good bet. By the time I left in '68 (having crammed 4 years into 5, and stayed an extra one to boot), all the teams had decent bikes, and the competition was much more sophisticated. Did I mention that it was a "beer-bike" relay? Still takes place, with 10 riders and 10 drinkers per team. Our team's drinkers would average <4 seconds each for a 24 oz warm tall-boy. Took months of training, though. I just rode.
We relied on Cyclo-Pedia for parts, mail-order from Michigan. I think that I first saw a Hetchins catalogue in Houston, too.
New York had bike shops. Houston... was the biggest darned village in the US. My learning curve was steep. I got over Houston, but kept the love of bikes. My Bride's engagement present, in Houston, was a lovely used DB Columbus Atala, much too small for the NY boy who brought it down to college and sold it to me. I think he was a mathematician, but most of us were pretty unwordly. She still doesn't have a diamond, but the marriage has done ok. :-) Your mileage may vary. This reads like a spoof, but it's all true. Really.
harvey sachs
mcLean va