I was an ex-newspaperman turned recreational rower, looking for what happens next. Harley was a 6-year-old (2005) 883cc custom Sportster, aching for a trip. We met last spring through Craigslist.

That much surprised me, I guess, since I don’t visit Craigslist that often (possibly because the free listings there almost single-handedly extinguished my former form of employment). But one day I got wondering if any used bikes near my home in Anchorage might compare to the new motorcycle I was secretly admiring in the local Harley Davidson showroom. So I went online and spotted the Sportster.

He looked brand new — and no wonder: In six years of service, the ad said, the bike had only been ridden 3,000 miles all-told and had “never been laid down.” Its first owner was an Anchorage soldier deployed to Iraq so often he seldom got a chance to ride. The second owner was a retired corrections officer whose wife didn’t enjoy riding as much as the husband hoped, and now the couple was moving away.

The asking price was right.

At five grand, pampered Harley was less than half the cost of what a new Sportster of similar engine size went for — and about a third of what the new 1200 cc custom Sportster I’d been contemplating cost. As it so happened, the ad had just been posted, and I was the very first caller. I was also the last.