Some motorcycles are built to be seen.
A rare few are built to be remembered.
Roys Toys’ Got Your Six started as an idea—then it became the first build to win a format nobody had ever tried before, on a stage as big and loud as the Republic of Texas (ROT) Biker Rally.
A Basement Lunch and a Handshake
The origin story doesn’t begin in a shop. It begins in Ohio, at the Columbus Convention Center, during the AMD World Finals, down in the basement, over a quick bite, with no meeting on the calendar and no script.
Jeff Najar (HorsepowerAI.com) was there. Colleen of the ROT Rally was there. A few people with the authority to say “yes,” and the instincts to recognize a good idea when it hit the table.
Najar pitched a concept the industry hadn’t seen: a father-daughter builder showcase, a way to bring female builders into the spotlight of a traditionally male-dominated show environment, and do it in a way the ROT Rally crowd would embrace, not just tolerate.
The response was immediate. It landed because it was right.
And because this world still understands something important: sometimes the biggest deals start with a handshake.
Three Teams, One Format, No Judges
The Daughters of Custom concept moved quickly from conversation to commitment. Three father-daughter teams were selected—each given a small budget and the freedom to build their own interpretation.
Roy’s Toys Customs was chosen as one of the three. Their approach was simple: don’t build a prop. Build a story you can ride.
A Bike with a Past
Instead of hunting for the perfect donor, Roy’s Toys found something more meaningful: a damaged rigid that had been laid down by a Marine who didn’t want to ride it again. The bike had taken hits—metal, paint, pride, enough to make most builders walk away.
Roy’s Toys went the other direction.
They bought it from a veteran, tore it down completely, repaired what mattered, and rebuilt it as a tribute meant to travel from one veteran to another.
They named it Got Your Six, a phrase that doesn’t need explaining in the military community. It means: I’ve got your back.
The Transformation
The build became a full rework, not a refresh.
The frame was cleaned up, the neck boxed and smoothed, and the stance dialed. Power came from an Evo setup (with S&S in the mix), backed by a five-speed transmission. RC components anchored the rolling stock. Every surface was refined. Every line intentional.
And then the details took over.
At the same Columbus event where the deal was taking shape, leather craftsman Matt Hurtado (Working Man Customs) was vending. A casual connection turned into something permanent: Hurtado became the seat builder on Got Your Six.
Once he heard the name, he delivered a seat that was as much artwork as upholstery—featuring a skeletal Western-inspired figure and the number six. The kind of piece you don’t replace. You keep.
A Dinner in Long Beach and a One-Off Color
Later, during the build window, another impromptu meet-up happened—this time at a seafood spot in Long Beach during IMS.
That’s where painter Taylor Schultz (Schultz Designz) entered the story.
Schultz didn’t need convincing. He wanted in.
Roy’s Toys gave him creative control, including the freedom to choose the color. Schultz had something rare: a one-off shade, just enough material to paint the bike, not enough to duplicate it later. The result was the kind of finish that changes the way people talk when they walk around a motorcycle.
And because the team wasn’t leaving anything to chance, the tins weren’t shipped, they were driven. Nikki made the run, picked up and delivered parts personally. That decision alone says a lot about how seriously Roy’s Toys treated the build.
Even the frame was treated like a throwback: molded, painted, and polished rather than powder-coated. Old-school execution with modern precision.
Austin TX, ROT Rally HQ: The Moment That Made It Real
At the ROT Rally, the three teams presented their bikes to a Texas-sized audience, many with deep military ties. The format was as direct as it gets:
No judges. No points. No politics.
A veteran would choose the winner by choosing the bike.
The first selected veteran didn’t show. So the organizers moved to the next vetted veteran: Matt.
He stepped onto the stage, walked the line, and took his time.
Then he chose Got Your Six.
It wasn’t subtle why. It was the story, the purpose, the execution, and the fact that it stood out as the only American-made Harley platform in the lineup.
Behind the moment, the night was already legendary: ZZ Top was on deck, and the Travis County Fairgrounds had never hosted them until then. For the builders, it wasn’t just a win. It was a full-body memory.
Press, Legacy, and the Return Home
Got Your Six didn’t fade after the lights went down. It earned major coverage, including American Iron cover features, cementing the build as more than a one-night victory.
Then life happened the way it always does. The bike changed hands. It traveled. It took wear. Somewhere along the line, it was mistreated, enough that Roy’s Toys couldn’t stand behind the condition it was in.
Eventually, it came back home.
The decision was made: it would be redone, properly, and kept forever. Nikki began planning a new palette, teal and bronze, with Schultz set to repaint it. With extensive engraving throughout the build, the next version won’t erase the past—it will refine it.
Because some motorcycles aren’t inventory.
They’re legacy.
Why This Build Still Matters
Daughters of Custom wasn’t a marketing gimmick. It was a cultural shift presented in the most honest way possible: builders, families, veterans, and a crowd that knows authenticity when it sees it.
And Roys Toys Got Your Six became the symbol of that first year, built with intention, chosen by a veteran, and brought back home to live on as a permanent part of Roy’s Toys history.
If you want a motorcycle that’s more than parts and paint, one with purpose, craftsmanship, and a story that holds together under real miles, connect with Roy’s Toys Customs.
