SMOKY MOUNTAIN HARLEY-DAVIDSON: NO ORDINARY SATURDAY
Written by Max Barna
H-D Staff Writer Max Barna is on a mission to visit every dealer in the U.S. Check out his stop at Smoky Mountain H-D, equal parts bike shop, honky-tonk, and home base for East Tennessee riders.
The ride up from Chattanooga felt like a dream. I had left just after sunrise, thinking the morning stretch from Nashville had already offered the best of what Tennessee had to give.
But I was wrong.
That hundred-mile shot up I-75, skirting through deep pockets of forest and wide-open farmland, really opened my eyes to just how beautiful Tennessee is. I’d ridden through it a couple times before, but not like this.
The road tilted and straightened, then tilted again, giving me enough of a lean to stay alert and enough empty sky to disappear into.
By the time I reached Maryville, the sun was beginning its slow descent, pouring gold across the hills.
I pulled into the lot at Smoky Mountain Harley-Davidson, and the first thing I saw was the crowd.
Bikes everywhere. Parked sideways, lined up in groups, leaning heavy on kickstands. Some were polished to the point of reflection, others still wore the road dust from wherever they had come from that morning.
The doors to The Shed were wide open, and the place was already packed. People were out on the patio, inside at the bar, moving in and out like they were all waiting for something to kick off.
The band hadn’t started yet, but there was a buzz in the air that usually means something good’s about to happen. I’d find out later it was The Wildflowers, a Tom Petty tribute band known for doing it right. But for now, it’s just that early stretch of the evening when everything feels wide open.
We find Scott Maddux, the owner, near the bar, shaking hands and smiling like a man who’s been hosting all day and still means it. He reaches out to shake mine, too.
Shane Richmond, Smoky Mountain’s Senior Vice President of Operations, meets me at the entrance to The Shed. He shakes my hand, points out a spot to park, and walks me over like we’ve known each other longer than a few emails. Knowing I’d been on the road all day, he parks me just a few steps from the bar.
After I shut the bike down, he tells me Scott Maddux, the owner, is inside and wanted to make sure I got in okay. We find Scott near the bar, shaking hands and smiling like a man who’s been hosting all day and still means it. He reaches out to shake mine, too.
“Shane told me you’re coming in from Chattanooga,” he says over the crowd. “But that you started the day in Nashville? That’s a good ride. Are you enjoying Tennessee so far?”
That’s something I noticed throughout the whole trip. Every Tennessean I met wanted to make sure I was having the best time in their state. They wanted to know if I was enjoying myself, and they always asked with such pride.
They want to hear you say it’s beautiful out here. They want to hear that you get it. Scott's the kind of guy who makes you feel like you’ve known him longer than you have. He’s a real clap-on-the-back, “What are ya drinkin’?” type.
We talk about bikes, about the dealership, about what it takes to build something that lasts. There’s no pitch or branding jargon. Just a sense that this whole place exists because he willed it into being and never stopped refining the vision.
After that, Shane takes me inside and walks me through the dealership, pointing things out and giving me a feel for the place. He had that calm-but-focused energy of someone who’s been busy all day and still somehow makes the time to cart a stranger around.
As we moved through the building, he told me how proud they are of what they've built, not just in terms of the bikes or the sales floor, but in the way it all feels when you step inside.
“None of this was thrown together,” he says. “We were intentional with every piece of it. Every rug, every fixture, every display. We wanted it to feel like a place people would remember, and like a place that reflects what Harley-Davidson means to us and to this community.”
Whatever this building used to be, it’s something entirely different now. Smoky Mountain has erased anything that didn’t belong and filled the space with character.
Leather chairs. Heavy wood fixtures. Old rugs under new merch displays. Panheads, Knuckleheads, Shovelheads, custom chopper builds, and even a Servi-Car parked with the kind of reverence usually reserved for church altars.
Display cases full of photos and nostalgia that look like they were lifted from the personal stash of a retired flat track racer.
It’s clean but not sterile. Curated but not performative. The whole place feels more like a roadside museum than a H-D dealership. Like someone has been tending to it for decades.
We were intentional with every piece of it. We wanted it to feel like a place people would remember, and like a place that reflects what Harley-Davidson means to us and to this community.
Smoky Mountain is a cornerstone. That blend of old and new — vintage bikes and choppers on display, modern bikes rolling off the floor — tells a story without needing to spell anything out.
Next door, The Shed was already filling up. If you’ve never been, try to imagine a barbecue joint built inside an old hunting cabin, with a stage tucked into the back and a bar big enough to wrap around all of it.
It smells like smoked meat and spilled beer, and it’s packed to the brim with smiling people having a good time.
Ribs, brisket, pulled pork, chicken, all smoked out back and everything plated to order. I grabbed a tray, found a spot near the edge of the patio, and sat down to soak in the scene.
But this isn’t just any night. This is the annual Cannonball Fun Run, a memorial ride in honor of Sean “Lil Sean” Summerfield, a beloved member of the Smoky Mountain Harley family who passed far too young.
Sean grew up in this place. Literally. Started working there at fifteen. Rode his Sportster to school by sixteen. Built bikes, ran parts, washed frames, and helped organize events.
He was a big part of the team.
The Cannonball Fun Run itself is half scavenger hunt, half endurance challenge. Riders team up, grab a map and a set of checkpoint clues, and tear off in every direction, trying to hit as many stops as possible within a seven-hour window.
There’s no set route or perfect strategy to it. Just you, your bike, your buds, and the backroads of East Tennessee.
That morning, hundreds of riders set out from the dealership, all chasing the same goal. Not to win, necessarily, but to take part.
All proceeds from the run go to the Summerfield Memorial Scholarship, a scholarship fund setup by the Smoky Mountain Harley-Davidson team in Sean’s honor.
I missed the ride, but had arrived just in time for the awards and the afterparty. The energy was electric.
I thought about how this wasn’t some once-a-year spectacle. It was just another Saturday. Just another day at a place that refuses to be ordinary.
Folks leaned against bikes and picnic tables, sharing beers, trading stories, and watching the final raffle tickets get pulled.
After a small break, the band kicked on. The Wildflowers launched into “Refugee,” and for a second, it really did feel like Tom Petty himself was up there.
I’m normally not a tribute band guy, but the excitement from the crowd and the energy of everyone having such a good time felt so special and lively. The stoke was contagious.
After the show was over and people started trickling out, I hung back and watched it all.
I thought about how this wasn’t some once-a-year spectacle. It was just another Saturday. Just another day at a place that refuses to be ordinary.
I thought about Sean, about how many places like this never find someone like him.
And I thought about how lucky I was to have landed here, at just the right time, in just the right light, with just the right people.
CHECK OUT THE SHED EVENT CALENDAR
Riding through East Tennessee? Make The Shed your first stop for good food, good drinks, and good times.
I’ve been to a lot of dealerships, and each one has its own rhythm and reason for being. But every once in a while, you find a place that feels like more than just a stop on the itinerary.
Smoky Mountain Harley-Davidson was one of those places.
If you ever find yourself riding through Maryville, or hear talk of the Cannonball Run or Bike Night at The Shed, make the stop. Walk the floor. Grab a plate of brisket. Catch a show if the timing’s right.
You’ll find them at 1820 W. Lamar Alexander Parkway, Maryville, TN 37801. If you need to call ahead, the number’s (865) 977-1669.
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