A Materials and Tech Disruptor

While some metallurgic giants were busy aiming for the skies, Davy set their sights on the ground—bringing aerospace-grade technology to SxS and UTVs with a material they designed and developed in-house. I had the privilege of working alongside some of the sharpest minds while bringing their vision to life. The mission? Build a brand that made innovation approachable in an industry that rarely is.

The Powersports industry is filled with loud branding, aggressive visuals, and overcomplicated logos. Every company is chasing the same formula: fast-flying drone shots, wind-whipped trails, and massive jumps over sand dunes. Everyone’s shouting louder, bolder, faster—but none of them are saying anything that matters.

Davy wasn’t going to be another forgettable name in the noise.

Problem was, they didn’t even have a name.

They started as Elixsys, a who-the-hell-is-that aluminum manufacturer tucked away in Bainbridge Island, Washington. But let’s be real—no one’s buying a roll cage from a brand that sounds like a prescription drug. They needed a name with a story. One that hit like a shot of whiskey and felt like it belonged next to campfire legends.

It's 1798. The world’s a mess of chaos and change. Industry is booming, science is rewriting reality, and across the pond, one British chemist is blowing minds and setting shit on fire (sometimes literally). Humphry Davy didn’t just follow the rules—he rewrote them. He was part scientist, part poet, and full-time disruptor.

To those in the know, Davy was the guy who cracked the code and put new materials into the world. To everyone else? He was that friend who showed up uninvited, brought a six-pack, and left you with a story you’d never forget.

That’s the energy we wanted for this brand.

But a name alone wasn’t enough. Davy had to stand for something.

Davy couldn’t just be another Powersports brand chasing performance stats. It had to be real. A brand built for the moments that matter—not just the high-speed glory shots, but everything in between. The beer-cracking, dust-covered, story-swapping, what-the-hell-just-happened moments. The ones that don’t make the highlight reel but stay with you forever.

A brand that didn’t just sell parts. A brand that made people feel something.

The focus wasn’t just on what riders did—it was on why they did it.

Powersports isn’t just about the machine—it’s about the experience. The thrill of the ride. The stories told long after the dust settles. That’s where we focused.

Davy wasn’t built to shout about performance specs (though it has plenty). The industry had enough of that. What was missing was a brand that felt like the ride itself—the excitement, the connection, the freedom.

We started with the people. Racers, weekend warriors, the adventure-seekers—they weren’t just buying parts. They were buying confidence, camaraderie, and the ability to push a little further. Every piece of the brand had to reflect that.

Davy’s positioning was clear: It wasn’t just about speed or power—it was about making every ride better, however that looked for each rider. Whether that meant shaving seconds off a lap time or getting home safely after a long day on the trails, Davy stood for progress, performance, and the people who live for both.

The voice had to match. Confident but never arrogant. Knowledgeable but never pretentious. The kind of brand that doesn’t need to prove itself—it just shows up and gets the job done.

We anchored everything in four core pillars:
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Science – Innovation that actually makes a difference.
Connection – The moments between the action.
Action – Dream it. Own it. Make it happen.
Nerve – No shortcuts, no compromises.

To keep it all sharp and consistent, we developed the Brand Book—a guide ensuring that every touchpoint, from product to influencers, carried the same clarity, confidence, and purpose.

Davy Powersports wasn’t built to blend in. It was built to be the brand that riders trust—not just because of what they make, but because of what they stand for.

Massive shoutout to the legends over at Davy.

Beers for the crew, who put in the long days, powered through the blurry nights, and endured an unreasonable number of hours listening to Kev holler, “I want more real!” They didn’t just show up—they poured themselves into every pixel, every frame, every damn detail. This wouldn’t be what it is without them. Respect where it’s due.