Freyja and Christina crossing the English/Welsh border on the Chirk akkiduck

Tuesday 3 July 2012

For the boater-bikers out there


Here’s a picci of our Harley-Davidson Sportster 883 resplendent in her own private quarters on Freyja’s front deck.  With the handlebars dropped, the top-plank up and tarps down, she’s as snug as a bug in a rug and nobody knows she’s there.  The Bloke has corrected me, it’s a “he”.  Sorr-ee.


We load and unload with a wide ramp that chains to points on the gunwales.  Nothing complicated and it works.  And it is amusing to see jaws drop when we decide to go for a ride and the Bloke rolls up the tarps and we unload her-him-it;  usual comments are along the lines of:  “Well, I’d never have guessed that was there.”  and then we hear about all the bikes they’ve had.  And we eventually get to go for our own ride.

Getting her, um it, was another story:  we went into the dealership with a tape-measure and had a puzzled sales team following us around as we measured up everything we fancied.  Funnily enough, this was the one we liked most and the one that fitted perfectly.

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