Legacy Powersports didn't start with a business plan. It started with an obsession.

For more than 35 years, I've made my living around machines — what makes them right, what makes them worth keeping, and what most people miss when they look at one. That career started in detailing, building two companies in Tampa around a single idea: that the difference between good and exceptional lives in the details nobody else bothers to look at. Running Elite Auto Salon and Detailers Warehouse taught me to see a vehicle the way few people do — not the shine on the surface, but the truth underneath it. You learn fast which "clean" bikes are actually clean, and which ones are just well-presented problems.

That eye doesn't switch off. Spend enough years learning exactly how a machine is supposed to look, sound, and sit, and you can't un-see the ones that aren't right. It changes how you buy. It changes what you'll put your name on.

Motorcycles were never just inventory to me. They're personal. My own stable runs the gamut — BMW, Ducati, KTM, Triumph — bikes built for the kind of riding that doesn't forgive a mediocre machine. Out here in East Tennessee, the roads tell you the truth fast. The Tail of the Dragon and the Cherohala Skyway don't care what's on the price tag; they care whether the bike is sorted. Riding ground like that, on bikes like those, is what made the standard non-negotiable for me.

Eventually the obsession outgrew the garage. What started as a hobby — chasing the right bikes, sorting them out, riding the roads that demand the best of a machine — became the blueprint for a business. I'd probably still be doing it just for the love of it if it weren't for two people: my wife Kristina and my best friend Nick. They saw the way I treated every bike, the standard I held them to, and they were the ones who pushed me to stop keeping it a hobby and build something real out of it. I turned that passion into a curated dealership because they believed I should — doing professionally what I'd already spent decades doing for the love of it.

So when I built Legacy Powersports in Lenoir City — minutes from some of the best riding roads in America — I built it around the only thing I actually know how to do: refuse to settle. Find the right ones. Document them honestly. Stand behind every single one. Build a dealership for the people who can tell the difference, because I'm one of them.

We're a small, curated dealer with big results — and we're just getting started.

— Dallas CatheyFounder, Legacy Powersports