Honda PC Pacific Coast 800 

In 1989 it was tough to  ^{know what to make of Honda's Pacific Coast. Was it a scooter with a gland problem? A Tupper-ware sport-tourer? A three-quarter-scale Gold Wing, perhaps?}

Actually, the PC emerged as a carefully calculated riding invitation from the "You Meet the Nicest People" people. It was a riding invitation aimed at those 525i-driving, American Express-card-carrying members of the population who, for one reason or another, hadn't yet found a reason to park a motorcycle in their garages.

Honda's equally calculated mainstream-media campaign pulled a lot of people into dealerships to kick the PC's tires, but very few of them were willing to ante up the $7698 cost of admission. And if that wasn't bad enough, hard-core riders took the emergence of the PC and other off-center 1989 models like the GB500 single as a sign that Honda had forsaken them to woo this ephemeral new fringe market.

A fresh coat of candy-red paint made the 1990 model a bit more exciting than the painfully beige original. Revamped bodywork fasteners silenced the squeaks under the 1989 bike's skin. But the only move that gave PC sales a kick in the pants was reducing the price significantly, which lowered the bike's suggested retail to around $6000. With the PC conspicuously absent from Honda's new-bike lineup for the last three years, it looked as if the sun had set on the Pacific Coast.

But not quite. As the supply of 1990-spec bikes started to dry up, American Honda began hearing that interest in the PC was beginning to build. Whether you wanted a smaller, lighter Gold Wing alternative, a stylish commuter or just something in between, the word was out. There was a solid, well-engineered and even (dare we say it?) practical motorcycle under all that plastic—one good enough to earn a slot in Honda's 1994 lineup.

A basic black and silver paint job makes the bike much easier to look at this time around, and a new $6499 sticker price makes PC ownership easier on the old credit line. But when you peel away all 29 pieces of its ABS plastic skin, the basic beast remains the same.

Power flows from the same liquid-cooled, 45-degree V-twin that powered the 1989 PC, adapted from the long-extinct 800 Shadow. A 36mm Keihin CV carburetor feeds each slightly oversquare cylinder through three maintenance-free valves. Hydraulic adjusters maintain perfect valve lash, while Honda's dual-pin crankshaft cancels most of the narrow-angle V's vibration. Rubber engine mounts ensure annoying shakes won't sneak into the steel-perimeter frame.

The obligatory digital electronic ignition system cues dual spark plugs in each head. And when you add self-adjusting cam chains, hydraulic clutch actuation and shaft final drive, the PC requires about as much attention from Saturday-morning mechanics as your basic 1994 automobile—not much. Beyond checking the valves and changing the oil, all you have to do is pop in a new air filter every few months.

Settle into the PC's plush cockpit, reach for the padded handlebar and you'll be greeted with a feeling not unlike that of dropping into the front seat of your car and grasping the steering wheel. Anybody with a driver's license should feel at home sitting comfortably upright on the PC's broad, flat saddle. The PC saddle sits just 30 inches above the pavement, which means all but the shortest riders can get a firm footing at a stop. Six-footers will find the relatively high, forward-mounted footpegs put their knees at waist level. Flick up the sidestand, and the low-slung PC belies its 633-pound weight; from the saddle it feels lighter than the average 750 sport-tourer.

Getting underway is simply a'matter of pulling out the contoured choke plunger situated in the center of the tall handlebar and thumbing the starter. Our test unit was a tad coldblooded on brisk mornings but warmed to the task within a minute, settling into a tastefully muted, loping idle guaranteed to let you slip out at sunup without waking the neighbors.

And while the PC's exhaust note doesn't boil your blood the way a Milwaukee or Bologna twin can, none of those bikes can touch the PC when it's time to go to work. Open the fuel-filler door (positioned at the base of the tank) with the ignition key, yank open the trunk latch and say hello to a clamshell trunk lid that hides two fairly large cargo pockets. The trunk offers enough room for a pair of full-face helmets, a pair of grocery sacks or a laptop computer and briefcase full of work. Under a latching lid in the left side of the fairing, a small compartment provides enough room for maps and a tire gauge or maybe even a compact cellular phone.

As it makes a quiet segue into the trail of Monday-morning brake lights leading into the city, the PC meters out power with a seamless, idle-to-redline delivery that reminds us more of a Honda Accord than a Honda motorcycle. Swing the tach needle left to right a couple of times and you'll find the engine runs a little more eagerly beyond 4000 rpm, but there's nothing as exciting as an actual spike in the flat power curve. Aside from a minor off-idle stutter, carburetion on our test bike was perfect.

Our test unit suffered from a bit of the notchy shifting that plagues a number of Honda gearboxes. And though the hydraulic clutch proved abuseproof, it's also short on feel. That's the end of the driveline-glitch list. Smooth power and quick steering make the PC much more agile than you'd expect a motorcycle of its general girth and mass to be. The broadly spaced integrated mirrors and saddlebags make threading through tight spots in traffic a little tougher, but otherwise the PC behaves like a genteel inner-city trials bike, responding quickly and predictably to rider inputs. And if you are unlucky enough to drop the bike or nick a car with one of the mirrors, they are designed to pop free rather than break off.

Put the city behind you, and the PC proves a stable, comfortable mount for disposing of a few hundred freeway miles. Honda engineers worked hard to make the engine a cooperative but anonymous servant. With the speedometer and tach needles camping on 65 mph and 4200 rpm in fifth gear, a gentle rumble from somewhere between your boots is the only clue there's an engine working down there.

The engine's gentle, low-frequency vibes are never annoying, even after a full day in the comfortably contoured saddle. Passenger accommodations are equally plush, though some of our larger passengers wished for rump relief a couple of hours into an all-day ride. But that's no great hardship, considering the small 4.2-gallon tank enforces freeway fuel stops about every 175 miles or so.

Though looking under your arms is a little odd at first, the mirrors provide a crystal-clear rear view at legal freeway speeds. Most staffers returned from expressway excursions complaining that turbulent air flowing over the top of the windscreen made the PC a noisy ride, even with earplugs. But shorter riders were happy with the taller screen that is standard on 1994 models. The tall screen was an accessory on the original Coast. With the left shock set in the second of five preload slots (the right shock isn't adjustable), the PC delivers a controlled, comfortable ride. There's enough compression damping in both the shocks and the nonadjustable 41 mm fork to transmit square-edged pavement imperfections straight to the rider, but the payoff is a much more controlled ride when the road turns twisty.

While the Coast hardly poses a threat to CBR600 riders, the same light, linear handling manners and seamless power that let the PC work so well around town make it fun arcing through a tasty set of corners. The engine's smooth, modest output keeps shaft effect from unsettling your cornering attitude, and feeding in a little throttle through the corners helps an aggressive rider keep hard parts clear of the tarmac. A quick back-road pace touches down the footpeg feelers and centerstand, but there's enough cornering clearance to feather the standard Dunlops to their edges without a trace of drama. The dual front discs and drum rear brake proved to be confidence-inspiring stoppers at sporting speeds, though you'll need a healthy grip to slow down in a hurry.

Passing power is adequate if underwhelming; adding a passenger, baggage or a few thousand feet of altitude to the equation has the PC demanding a long, straight stretch to pass a parade of slow-moving traffic. With a 14.27-second, 91.8-mph best at the dragstrip, the PC is more than a second slower than a Gold Wing, but eyeball-flattening performance was never a part of its job description.

If you're searching for a surefire adrenaline trigger, look elsewhere. The Pacific Coast trades on more basic virtues like practicality, style and user-friendliness—the same virtues that put Honda's Accord at the top of the four-wheel sales charts for so long.

Okay, so all the four-door, ranch-style split-level consumers Honda courted four years ago never parked a PC between the Cherokee Chief and the 525L And bless their hard-core hearts, the motor heads aren't going to sign off on this bike no matter what color it's painted. But if you're searching for long-haul touring capability in a slick, easy-handling package that just happens to be as cooperative and practical as the sedan it bunks next to every night,' your shopping list has only one bike on it: Honda's Pacific Coast. M

Source MOTORCYCLIST 1993