The Honda Pacific Coast was truly an oddball of a motorcycle, but it’s become a cult classic and resale values typically surprise motorcyclists who don’t follow these bikes closely. For a certain type of rider, this is the perfect two-wheeler – reliable, comfortable, ample integrated storage, and adequate handling. For the seller of this specific example, it’s a “piece of perfection.” This actually looks to be a fairly decent example of the model, but that’s not whatwhy I’m featuring it. I’m featuring it because the listing is fantastic:
I’ve copied and pasted the text here for posterity. Honestly, you don’t even need to read the listing. You can just look at this photo and it will tell you everything you need to know about the seller:
Still, I think you’ll get a few chuckles out of this, so enjoy:
Up for sale is a 1992, or possibly 1993 Honda Pacific Coast 800. I honestly never cared to know what year it was – this bike only gets better looking with age. What I do know is that every time I pass your girlfriend on this, she gives me the same look of arousal that can only be compared to the look my junior year homecoming date gave me after I shotgunned an unhealthy amount of Keystone Light in a Walmart parking lot.
First off, this sex machine was built to party. Don’t let the smooth curves fool you, she can easily fit two cases of beer (plus ice) in the trunk. If getting fucked up in public parks before noon isn’t your thing, you can “probably” fit about 14 pounds of weed in the trunk. Way more if you vacuum seal it. This is a total guess though. The trunk locks up tighter than your jealous girlfriend after noticing a text message from a female coworker you once called “cute”. I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU KOURTNEY. IT’S CALLED HAVING FRIENDS AND IS TOTALLY NORMAL. What I’m trying to say is that the trunk is awesome and will make everyone jealous. You could put a baby or some groceries in it if you needed. Plus if you “accidentally” drive through a river everything will stay dry, or so I’ve heard.
This bike was marketed to middle aged, middle class white guys (my dad LOVES this bike), so you rarely see them on the road. If socializing with my miserable coworkers has taught me anything, it’s that middle class white guys rarely do anything except work a thousand hours a week because “It’s up to us to keep society together, as the millennials today are lazy pieces of shit and do nothing but cause a drain on the economy, always whining for things like basic healthcare and salaries that will allow them to one day possibly move out of an apartment and into a glorified crackhouse”. Lucky for us, them working all of those hours means they don’t go outside with their motorcycles to fuck up traffic on I-35 any worse than it already is with their complete lack of self-awareness, because using common courtesy on the road would be way too much of an inconvenience. With that being said, this bike only has 19K miles, which is low as shit.
I bought this bike in March 2016 with the sole purpose of riding to the white trash mecca known as Daytona Beach, FL. I made the trip in May of that year, slept on picnic tables (not by choice), and somehow managed to not get pulled over despite ignoring 100% of the posted speed limits throughout the tri-state area. Before leaving on that magical journey, which was sponsored by those gold cans of 32oz Miller High Life and gas station taquitos, nearly every consumable on the bike had been replaced at 16K miles – oil and filter, brake pads, tires, battery, air filter, coolant, etc. I simplified the fuel system, modifying a few pieces that notoriously fail and leave you stranded, forcing you to give HJ’s to a trucker named Carl for a ride to the next town over (or maybe I’m just bad at negotiating). I installed an insanely bright LED headlight because the factory one is shit, and wired up a handful of pigtails to run a GPS or charger for your wife’s Hitachi magic wand. She says it’s for her back, but we both know it’s because you’re too scared to use any amount of creativity in the bedroom despite knowing she’s moments away from leaving you for your best friend. I figured I would encounter Paul Blart at some point, so I put in a set of hidden switches to cut out the headlight and tail light. Use at your own discretion, as my friend who is a divorce attorney said it could “possibly be illegal”. Whatever that means – I don’t trust lawyers and neither should you.
You may be asking yourself, “But why would you possibly want to sell such a luxurious machine”? I’ve just got too many damn bikes. I tried putting it in my apartment, but this big girl doesn’t climb stairs for shit, and it would just give my sketchy neighbors another reason to break in. She currently lives at my deceptively attractive old boss’s house (old as in previous, not as in chronologically advanced – these details matter), and I know she can only handle so much visual excitement outside of her kitchen window every morning. Plus I’ve got two other bikes there and need to stay in her good graces. It’s only a matter of time before I’ll have to sell a fucking kidney to pay storage fees, as occasional grass cutting isn’t nearly enough.
If you buy this bike, you’re basically taking over my position as the Christopher Columbus of PC800’s. Whatever you decide to do, I guarantee it hasn’t been done on these bikes before. Burnouts? Top speed runs? Google that shit, and you’ll be met with “Why would I possibly want to go over the speed limit” and “Burnouts are unsafe”. It’s like being the coolest kid in the Chess Club – it takes practically zero effort. I once rode this thing through the woods of Florida, and can promise you it’s never been done on these bikes before. You’re essentially writing the history books with this machine. From what I can remember, this bike has been ridden inside of at least two houses, one bar, and one gas station – so you’ll have to get way more creative than me. Use your imagination – I believe in you. If you’re the lucky man (or woman, I’m as progressive as everyone else) who buys this from me, and you send me a picture of yourself jumping the bike at least 8″ off the ground or somehow doing a wheelie (no passengers allowed), I’ll personally buy you a dinner for up to $100. Or we can just go to the strip club and blow it there. I’m down for both options.
I’m asking $3K for this piece of perfection. It’s got ultra-low mileage and is in surprisingly good shape for the age. There are some minor blemishes on the bike from the previous owner (that’s what they all say). I’ll toss in a bike cover, a manual, the shitty original headlight, a spare ICON helmet that I never wore (safety is for nerds), and whatever extra stuff I’ve got from the bike laying around. Do some research on these bikes – they’re the epitome of over engineering. Hydraulic lifters, hydraulic clutch, shaft drive, and a double insulated engine (this thing is stealth as fuck). If it was just a little bit faster, it would seriously be the best bike ever made. It’s even got hidden crash bars underneath the fairings… FROM THE FACTORY. They are basically EXPECTING you to go hard as fuck on this thing and wreck it on a baseball field or at your upcoming family reunion. The bike comes with two keys for when you get drunk and lose one, a perpetually half tank of fuel, a clear Louisiana title in my name.
Find this Pacific Coast for sale here on Craigslist in Austin, Texas for $3,000.