Living in a Harley column

In the distant past I worked for the Hobrand company. That company specialized in firefighting equipment in the broadest sense of the word. So breathing air supply was also part of that story. Breathing air is compressed air - not oxygen - and is contained in the compressed air bottles of the fire brigade respiratory protection. Those bottles are set at 200-300 bar and therefore fall under the pressure vessels decree of the Stoomwezen. Just like the compressed air cylinders for recreational divers. They must therefore be inspected. And so I – then also a recreational diver – ended up at the diving club Lake Diving. Because bottles also had to be inspected there.

At Lake Diving, an unlikely out of control, cheerful club with excellent divers, Ger Dijkshoorn was at the helm. Ger is legendary in certain circles. Free-thinking freebooters like him were taken out of production quite some time ago. Oh yes: Ger was and is famous worldwide when it comes to the technique of - and improving - the technique of old(er) Harleys. And he built specials on demand. Now he is facing the publication of a series of booklets about the technology of old Harley (parts). Just look up motorcycleacademy.nl. *

The fact that there was some space in the compressed air story gave me the space to realize a childhood dream. I was going to make my own Harley hard tail. I have always found the line of those machines descending from the headlight to be beautiful. But I didn't have the money for a WLA or WLC (even then). Ger's hard tail frames, I remember, came from Kortenhoef and they had a normal head tube angle.

I bought such a frame and Ger made sure it would fit a Yamaha TX750 rear wheel. I arranged such a wheel through an acquaintance. At another contact I scored a Honda XL500 front with extended stanchions. Ger reported on a subsequent visit that he had a neat gearbox. The fenders were supplied by someone who dismantled BMWs for religious reasons. The tank halves and the oil tank came from the Vehicle. In Barneveld I found an exhaust system that was still ZGAN under a thick layer of gunk. Daan Smallenburg sold me a good 1200 cc Shovelblok. Someone gave me a Sportster headlight plus the cap on top. Via via I ended up with someone who had mounted a four-inch belt as the primary transmission. The original primary stuff was annoyingly in his way. Since he was not only a soft drug dealer, but also a recreational scuba diver, that deal didn't hurt me much either. I exchanged the intake side for tank and side covers from a Honda CB750. I found the air filter and some other stuff at (who the fuck is) Feelders. For the rest, anyone who has ever put together a motorcycle knows that such a joke takes a long time and is always more expensive than you thought or hoped. But in the end my pride was ready for inspection. The tank proudly bore the logo of the infamous Lilac engines. The license plate would say 'own construction'.

And then I got another job and had to move. From the west to the east. There was already a shortage of rental housing there. So we had to buy. But we had no money. The sale of my childhood dream in parts brought in something like 10 grand in guilders. Then we had money to buy a house. We have been living in that house for almost 30 years now. Fortunately, I never lost any sleep over selling my dream motorcycle. And who knows what the postcode lottery will bring…

The Haley Dingest is built in the large living room in Maarssenbroek. Because I didn't have a garage there. Now I do have a garage. But no more Harley. But I have a Ural and a Chang Jiang. I'm happy with that too.