I dont remember where I initially found this review and I apologize for not citing the source, but I recently found it again on my old computer as I sorted through files I needed and thought I would share. It is a rather long read, but it explains quite a bit about the 90's model bike.
# The New Standards Nighthawk 750
In the last decade, motorcycling has taken on the aspect of an exclusive, "members
only" club. Instead of lounging around in tall, wingback chairs, the members sit on
saddles of sport bikes, tourers, and cruisers. It's become a caste system, where the
fast get faster, the posh get posher, and everything gets more expensive.
"Standards?", the members might patronizingly intone, "Pish tush, old boy, our
members don't ride such things."
Along the way, Honda realized the headlong rush toward specialization had made
motorcycling increasingly discriminatory, with the clear yet unspoken implication
that if you weren't "our kind of people", you-- and your money--simply weren't
welcome. "We were alienating people with our own machines," admitted a Honda
spokesman.
From that realization springs the Nighthawk 750. With it, Honda aims to recapture
motorcycling's center, and in doing so invoke the memory of the legendary
CB750KO, arguably the first superbike, and one of the most versatile, egalitarian
machines Japan ever created. The Nighthawk seems poised to succeed, too; this
motorcycle will startle you with the possibilities that flow from its broadranging
competence. Sit on it; the riding position dates back 10, 20 years, but the roomy
expansiveness it provides is timeless. Thumb the starter button; the aircooled
inline-four's exhaust cadence is instantly familiar. "Everybody knows this machine,
somehow," says Ray Blank, Honda's assistant vice president of motorcycle
operations.
That sense of deja vu is no accident. The Nighthawk emerges as the product of the
most elaborate market research in motorcycling. That's crucially important, first
because it signals a change in the way Honda operates; before, the firm developed
new technology first, then looked for a way to apply it to the market. Second, the
research shaped every aspect of this motorcycle, from the way it looks, to the
hardware that went into it, to the way it works. Ask Honda why almost any part
went into the Nighthawk, and they'll back up its presence with research. Why
four-into-two pipes? To satisfy a need for symmetrical appearance. Why a
single-disc front brake? A single disc provides adequate performance, and dual
discs were perceived as being "too sporty." Why add a tach on a cost-fighter
motorcycle? Because it adds perceived value.
Honda began the NAS project (New American Standard, as it's known internally)
in 1988. The firm saw the need for a standard motorcycle, but there was
disagreement within the company on the form it should take, and the hardware to
build it. So Honda conducted a series of multitiered focus groups, with dealers and
consumers. Each group was. shown a group of sketches depicting a series of
motorcycles ranging from hardcore sport bikes to laid-back cruisers; they'd see 10
sketches, eliminate five, then be shown five more within a given genre.
The surprise the winnowing process revealed was the unanimity of the responses.
"It was as if all these people had been talking together," said one Honda
spokesman. "We wasted a lot of time doing research. We could have gone with the
first group's [pick]." The concept, and the necessary hardware was beginning to
take shape. At first, all the dealers said was, "Bring back the [CB700SC]
Nighthawk S." What they all wanted was the archetypal Universal Japanese
Motorcycle.
Among the unanimous choices were engine configuration and displacement, riding
position, styling, and price. The powerplant had to be an air-cooled inline-four,
displacing 750cc; the riding position had to be relaxed, upright, and spacious enough
for two; styling called for no full-enclosure bodywork, but a nod to the custom look
with a teardrop shape tank; the price had to be low: $4000- or less. "We could have
offered them technology," said a Honda spokesman, "but they didn't want it.
Simplicity and low price is what they wanted."
Price was the most crucial point, because from it came decisions on what
customers would be willing to live without. "A point came when trade-offs had to
be made," said Mr. Hara, chief engineer and project leader, "with the price point as
the guiding light." The focus group questioning became increasingly specific, such
as asking if the group members would do without a centerstand just to keep the
price at $4000. The answer was "Yes," which explains why the centerstand is an
extra-cost option on the Nighthawk, and shows just how hard Honda had to look
for corners to cut to keep the price under control. But the Nighthawk couldn't be a
cheap-looking, plain-Jane motorcycle. People wanted value for their hard-earned
dollars. Even features and performance took a backseat to value.
Hardware began to flow from the research. For the powerplant, Honda&127;
conveniently turned to its CBX750, a domestic Japanese model, and halfbrother to
the American-market CB700SC Nighthawk S of 1984-86. The air-cooled, dohc,
16-valve inline-four neatly met the focus groups' requirements, with the added
appeal of being the most sophisticated, compact example of its genre.
Low-/no-maintenance features such as hydraulic valve-lash and cam-chain
adjusters require almost appliance-like upkeep. Honda retained the CBX's chain
drive because it was cheaper and lighter than the S' shaft, and because focus groups
perceived it as being more sporty. To get the desired power characteristics--which
Hara described as broad-range, with linear power delivery, and a good punch on
top--Honda shrank the intake port and exhaust head pipe diameters, reduced valve
sizes and lift, shortened camshaft duration and cut overlap almost in half; all to
boost midrange and low-end. The chassis, likewise, represents a mixed bag of old
and new. Most of the single-backbone, double-downtube frame is unique to the
750 Nighthawk, but Honda again turned to the CBX750, for the tubing that
supports the swingarm-pivot. Wheelbase stretches a spacious 59.3 inches, for
two-up room and stable handling. "We sought a middle ground between pure sport
handling and touring [use]," said Hara, "but we altered the geometry toward sport."
Maybe so, but the figures, with 29 degrees of rake and 4.6 inches of trail, are
considerably more conservative than those found on almost any other current
sporting hardware.
An 18-inch front wheel went on, partly for its traditional look, and partly for its
stabilizing effect on handling. Suspension is all new, with the fork featuring
CBR60OF2-style valving, which better centers the metering rod for more precise
and consistent damping; both the fork and the shock have radiused oil galleries, to
achieve the same end. The Nighthawk was given a twin-shock rear end with
exposed top mounts because such a setup lends itself to bolt-on accessories-an
important point raised in the focus groups-and because of its traditional appearance.
Peripheral hardware came from other models in Honda's lineup; some 80 percent
of the Nighthawk started life elsewhere. The front brake rotor and caliper found
work first on Honda's ST1100. Likewise, the front Dunlop's size and tread pattern
are the same as the one on the ST, although carcass construction is different,
Dunlop uses the same mold, which reduces costs. The headlight and rear tire come
from the CB-1, the front fender from the Nighthawk S, the airbox from the
CBX750, and the rear fender from Honda's Euro-model NTV650 Revere. Robbing
the parts bins is a radical shift for Honda, a company that in the past has been
driven to design unique versions of the most basic, common components for each
new model. Still, Honda's Ray Blank disputes the notion that the Nighthawk is a
creature of Frankenstein-like parts-bin engineering. Nodding toward the dipstick in
the primary cover, he says the CBX uses a sightglass to check oil level. But some
of the Nighthawk's target buyers, he says, left motorcycling when the dipstick was
the predominant method of checking that vital fluid, and expect bikes to still have
them. So Honda went to the expense, late in the project, of designing and casting a
new primary cover with a dipstick. Even the mufflers were engineered to achieve a
certain note. "We're weaving a thread through these parts to make the concept
stand by itself," he said. Perhaps, but the turn-signal indicator between the
instruments looks cheap and tacked on, as do the mufflers' wire heat-shields-which
are next to useless for keeping nylon cold-weather suit pants from melting on the
pipes. Time would have been better spent on such details than on the argument of
sightglass versus dipstick. Those are quibbles, though. More important, how well
did Honda meet its other goals for the Nighthawk? Starting with the engine, we can
say that Honda accomplished precisely what it set out to do--perhaps too well, in
some respects. The tuning tactics give the 750 big jumps in torque and horsepower
throughout the rev range compared to the Nighthawk S' 696cc mill--until the two
achieve parity at the 750's 8500-rpm redline. The 750 posts whopping 12 and 14
horsepower gains at 6000 and 7000 rpm, and makes the same power at its
peak--62.6--as the 700 at the same rpm. The 750 might actually have the potential
to make the same 67.7-peak as the 700, but the rev limiter cuts in at 9000 rpm; the
700 revved to 10,750. Honda's masterfully broad-band VFR750 shades the
Nighthawk on top, but not as badly through the bottom and midrange as you'd
think for an engine two generations newer. Just to put things in perspective, though,
every 600 and 750 inline-four for sale in this country, except Kawasaki's 750
Zephyr, makes more peak power than the Nighthawk. And every one of them is
quicker than the Nighthawk. Honda's latest 750 turns quarter-mile times and speeds
virtually identical to those of its ancestor. Honda made good on the focus groups'
request not to make the Nighthawk the quickest and fastest in its class. Even roll-on
times are unspectacular, despite the Nighthawk being equipped with a five-speed
while most 750s now carry six-speeds, and despite it weighing little more than most
600's. Why? Gearing and carburetion are the culprits. The Nighthawk's overall
gearing in its top two ratios-fourth and fifth-are taller than the fifth and sixth of
other 750s, for a long-legged touring feel the focus groups requested. In addition,
lean carburetion creates soft throttle response below 4000 rpm, and occasional
slight hesitation when you yank the butterflies open at low rpm. Relief is just a
downshift or two away, but don't go looking to dust anybody in roll-ons; that's not
what this machine is about.
The Nighthawk fulfills Hara's goal of a linear powerband with good punch on top.
From the saddle, power builds remarkably smoothly, predictably through the
middle, with a satisfying boost in thrust at 5000 rpm, and again at 7000. Running
off the carburetor needles-at higher speeds and larger throttle openings engine
response is sharp and immediate. It's an appropriate powerband for efficient
propulsion, although some riders might trade some efficiency for more snap.
Despite rubber mounts for both the engine and the high-rise tubular handlebar,
some low-key vibration filters through to the grips throughout the rev range. At
normal speeds, only riders with exposed nerve endings in their hands will find the
slight buzz offensive. The vibration only becomes intrusive at the top of the rev
range; at 6000 rpm, the pegs start to tingle slightly, joined by the saddle at 7000,
and the grips at 8000.
Still, there's not enough vibration to significantly impinge on the rider's comfort
over the long-haul-another key focus-group request, and one the chassis fulfills
admirably. The Nighthawk is big for a 750, with a literbike-long 59.3-inch
wheelbase. Such size dovetails nicely with the American notion that bigger is better,
and also provides the full-size accommodations to make long-term roadwork
enjoyable. You grab the grips almost straight-armed, and the forwardmounted pegs
position your knees at a comfortable near-right-angle; Honda paid special attention
to the seat-to-peg distance, and it pays off handsomely. The saddle is
commendably broad and flat in the riders portion, with padding that feels thick and
firm. One tester put in back-to-back 350-mile days with no unusual fatigue.
The handlebar bend does prop you a bit too upright for the 65-to-75-mph speeds
common on the highway, so you're struggling slightly against the wind, with too
much pressure on your tailbone. It could be a simple matter of rotating the bar back
to drop the grips slightly, but Honda has typically pinned the switch gear to the bar,
which prevents positioning the levers to suit. We broke the pin, put things where
we wanted them, and got comfortable. A flatter bar or a windscreen would be
better solutions, easily allowed by the Nighthawk's deliberately mutable nature.
American Honda developed the Nighthawk's suspension, with the particularly
difficult task of combining good ride quality with decent backroad abilities in a
twin-shock setup with no available adjustments other than spring preload. "We
wanted it soft for a compliant ride, but with enough damping to control the chassis
for harder riding," said a Honda spokesman. For the most part, they were
remarkably successful. The Nighthawk's suspension sucks up a wide variety of
paving imperfections, and the saddle's excellent padding adds an extra line of
bump-defense. Some harshness intrudes over square-edge bumps of every stripe,
and over dropaways; we suspect a surplus of compression damping is the probable
culprit. Suspension is the key to the Nighthawk's backroad competence. Despite its
middle of the road appearance, this motorcycle is a flyer, staying planted and
secure with little extraneous chassis motion through high-speed sweepers and tight,
bumpy corners alike. Chassis and steering response are predictable, neutral, and
consistent from corner to corner, surface to surface, with no tendency to stand up
during combined turning and braking maneuvers; such linear behavior builds rider
confidence. On paper, with its long wheelbase, 29 degree rake, 4.6 inches of trail,
and 18-inch front wheel, the Nighthawk's response might look to be a bit sleepy.
Sure enough, steering response is on the slow side, but the high, 29-inch-wide bar
provides ample leverage to keep effort relatively low.
At hyperactive speeds, the Nighthawk's composure unravels only slightly. A lack of
rebound damping allows the rear wheel to extend too quickly over bumps, and the
front brake demands a workout. Despite plenty of braking power, the single disc
requires a firm, high-effort squeeze to stop hard. Comering clearance sets
maximum lean angles--hard parts drag before the edges of the tires fully scuff. The
pegs hit first, followed by the sidestand on the left, then the centerstand. Even so,
the Nighthawk comports itself admirably on a backroad. A talented rider might not
blow off more powerful, single-purpose sport bikes, but he won't have to sit there
and watch them vanish into the middle distance, either.
When he hits the city limits, he'll have advantages his more specialized brethren can
only envy. The upright riding position and compliant ride make the Nighthawk an
easier and more comfortable platform to negotiate through the confines of the
urban maze than any sport bike, with their characteristic cramped ergonomics and
stiff-legged suspension. In town, a rider will notice the Nighthawk's size--it seems
to spread out in front of you--but it doesn't feel heavy or awkward, and won't
intimidate. In slow-speed corners, the bike does require slight pressure on the inside
grip to keep it from standing up.
You do have to ride around the carburetors' flat spot in town, though. Make a
moderately hard launch away from traffic, and the bike lunges forward, then bogs.,
Either roll the throttle on smoothly, or use full power and slip the clutch brutally.
During normal riding, the engine revs quickly enough in the lower gears to get&127;
through the lean spot unobtrusively.
After almost 1000 miles of every kind of riding, you'll be struck with how easily,
how chameleonlike the Nighthawk adapts to different roles. And when you think
about its price, you'll be left slackjawed. You could pay half-again to twice the
Nighthawk's tariff, and still not get its broad-ranging brand of versatility.
In describing the Nighthawk, project leader Hara said he hoped to create "a
balanced machine which thrills the heart, yet is easy to live with." He can be
assured that balance and ease were achieved. Reaching a rider's heart, though, may
be slightly more difficult. The Nighthawk will not ignite the baser passions for
speed or hedonistic comfort. It caters to the simpler pleasure of merely
riding-anywhere you want to go, any way you choose. In the end, that may be the
more powerful appeal--but the one requiring the longer courtship.
Unlike the original CB750, the Nighthawk will never revolutionize motorcycling--a
more complex and competitive sport than it was in 1969. But this new 750 does
match its legendary predecessor in one regard: the sheer versatility it offers. It
carries the CB750's heritage as one of the most affordable, egalitarian machines
available, and that in itself is a noble accomplishment. The Nighthawk deserves to
succeed on its own substantial merits. Whether it does or not depends on the
people who designed it--you.
^^^That article was from Cycle - 1990 here's another:
"Riding Impression
Honda Nighthawk 750":
Issue: Cycle World 1991 Motorcycle Buyer's Guide
If ever there was magic in a motorcycle's model designation, the original Honda CB750 Four had it. Introduced in 1969, the 750 Four set the motorcycle industry on its ear, what with its inline four-cylinder engine - the first such mass-produced type in the modern era - its front disc brake and its high levels of performance. It was a watershed motorcycle, one that started a technology revolution that is still bearing fruit today.
Twenty-two years later, Honda is trying to rediscover some of the first Four's magic with its new CB750 Nighthawk, a standard-style bike that is an updated version of the original. The old bike was air-cooled; the new one is, too, though its engine now has double-overhead cams, four valves per cylinder and increased performance. The old bike had a single front disc brake; the new one does, too, but it's bigger and better stopping, and attached to a cast wheel fitted with a wide, tubeless [sic] tire. The old bike had clean lines and a comfortable, upright seating position; the new one does, too, though its looks, influenced by the Nighthawk series of the early 1980s, are much more integrated.
Enough history and comparison, how does this reborn CB750 work? For the most part, pretty darn well. The Nighthawk's engine is tuned for midrange power, a boon for everyday, around-town riding. Roll-on acceleration is also quite good, and open-road performance is satisfying, if not stupendous. Especially welcome are the low levels of vibration emanating from the Four as it loafs down the highway. Only if the engine is run in the upper reaches of its rpm range will it generate sufficient vibration to be bothersome.
The mild-steel, round-tube, double-cradle chassis - with its Hawk GT-style fork and fender, ST1100 front brake and CB-1 headlight - is a marvel of parts-bin engineering, and out on the road, all the parts pretty much work in harmony. Our biggest complaint centers on the dual-shock rear suspension: It simply isn't able to compress quickly enough over sharp bumps and ripples, and delivers a harsh ride. Thankfully, the Nighthawk's superb, thick seat isolates the rider from much of the rear suspension's unpleasantness.
At least the sub-par shocks don't seem to hamper the Nighthawk in curvy going. In fact, with its light, dead-neutral steering, sticky, Dunlop bias-ply rubber, a lightweight feel that belies the bike's slightly heavy 472-pound dry weight, and generous cornering clearance, the Nighthawk is pure fun to toss and flick through the twisties. It isn't quite up to pure sport bike levels, but it's more than competent on crooked back roads.
Despite its agility and willingness to change direction, the Honda is rock-steady in a straight line at speed. Give some credit here to steering geometry that's decidedly on the slow side (29-degree rake, 4.3-inch trail), the rest to the 18-inch front wheel and a comparatively long, 60-inch wheelbase.
Give some credit, too, to Honda for toeing the line in regards to the Nighthawk's price. At $3998, the Nighthawk isn't just attractive, agile and able, it's affordable. And in the inflationary climate of 1991, that's a pretty good magic trick.
