Living in a Harley column

As a motorcyclist, you usually have your dreams. An early infection had infected me with the Shovelhead 1200cc V-twin virus. The engine. Not the full-blown Hardly Ablestones. Those were too bulky for me. Add to that the overwhelming sense of beauty offered by the hardtail frame's sweeping line from the headstock to the tail. I already had my dream bike in mind.

Of course, you can keep dreaming about that. But I got a job at a company that did quite a bit of compressed air/breathing air for firefighters (and divers). It was also an official inspection station, falling under the Pressure Vessel Decree. Through the cylinder inspection service, I came into contact with Gert Dijkshoorn, the HP guru from Utrecht. Gert wasn't your average would-be pro. He knew what he was doing and made real improvements to the technology of Harley side-valve and overhead-valve engines.

And his clientele turned out to be quite diverse. Gert is still active from Amaliastraat. When the chill has subsided a bit, I'll have to head over there again.

Gert was also involved in frame building. As a Pro Street rider, he sold it worldwide from Amaliastraat. But when I saw one of his hardtail frames, I was sold. The frame was the same.

Then the search for the rest began. Not being a Harley enthusiast, I gave myself free rein. But in the meantime, I did come across a few unique Harleys of the now-discontinued variety. The purchasing and fitting continued. The front end was from a Honda XL500. The suspension had to be modified for that later. The rear wheel came from a Yamaha TX750, the famous "oil slicker." The fuel tank halves were "made in China," but were true copies of the original. I bought the seat—exactly the one I was looking for—at a trade show for 10 guilders. The price was so good because the seller didn't know what it was, as he only had used Japanese four-into-one exhaust systems in stock.

The fenders once belonged to a BMW /5. The carburetor was a 40mm Mikuni that was dirty and greasy at a show. Back home, it was showered and revitalized with a rebuild kit. The air filter came from a junkyard at yet another show. The die-cast thing was quite dirty, so it was cleaned, sanded, and filled. Then it got a makeover with aluminum from a spray can. At another show, there were three examples of exactly the exhaust system I wanted. I chose the greasiest, dirtiest one. Back home, after a rinse and polish, with some shavings and patience, it emerged as good as new. Fantastic! Meanwhile, a few things had been welded to the frame, and that frame went to Sjonnie Sigaar for powder coating.

The moped handlebar came from an acquaintance.

All in all, a good few hours had already gone into it when I stumbled upon a box of "Powder Blue" spray cans. I immediately declared it my favorite color. The logo on the tank was a tribute to the cursed Lilac brand. What did the Chinese characters underneath mean? "Not original." Around that time, a Sportster headlight also showed up. It was time for the wiring. And that was a piece of cake.

I had assembled the bike in the living room and saw our son stand up for the first time. He worked his way up the side of the Powder Blue and looked around in amazement. He didn't become a motorcyclist, by the way.

Then my creation was ready for RDW inspection.

Oh yeah: in the meantime, I'd gotten a new job. That meant moving. The move had to be arranged within a year. Renting was a problem. My partner and I earned too much to qualify for social housing. And renting on a private basis wasn't an option. So we started looking for a house to buy. It turned out you had to bring some of your own money for that. Money we didn't have.

After careful consideration, the engine, the (refurbished) four-speed gearbox, and the chassis were sold separately. So I no longer had my dream bike, but I did have an extra 12.000 guilders of my own money.

With that, we got to work.

And we found a house.

So we've been living in a Harley-Davidson for thirty years now.
And that cabin has become significantly more valuable than building it yourself could ever have been.

But just as there was no money for a house thirty years ago, there is now no money for building a second dream bike.

And to sell that house for that now…