CHARACTERS
His 670 whines as it nears the top of the ridge. He starts carving S’s, using every last bit of momentum and power he has. The hood of the sled lies at the bottom of the hill, too much extra weight for this climb. While the wind whips snow around his old school Ski-Doo riding gear, his pack hangs to the side like an Indiana Jones satchel. He breaks the summit and stares into the depths of the next valley, knowing the only option is to turn around. If he dropped in there would be no coming back. The fact that his crew on their modern mountain sleds couldn’t even make it to where he now stands already speaks volumes. It’s like he rode straight out of a time warp when men were men and they worked for every inch of distance further into the backcountry. In the day of selfie narcissism, when image is so often placed above raw passion, there are few people as genuine as Brian Schuler. Amidst the brand new sleds, jacked up trucks and 4 place trailers in the parking lot, he will show up in a Cavalier towing a small trailer with his ’98 Ski-Doo 670 on it. This is a guy with a deep dedication to mountain sledding and no shame in the equipment he has. A true man of the mountains, Brian is defined by the purest parts of the sport, the riding itself and the outlet of escape it provides. People often wonder why he doesn’t have a newer rig. He’s a hardworking, strong valued man who believes in paying things outright, and having raised two children with his wife, a new sled has been financially out of reach. Another reason just might be because a new sled is too easy to get into trouble with, and newer doesn’t necessarily mean better for him. When you know every detail of a Ski-Doo 670 like Brian does, the old sled will do just fine. Paycheck to paycheck translates to riding weekend to weekend, and by maintaining two Ski-Doo 670s he manages to ride every weekend from the end of December to the first week in April.
Brian is not one to quit something he is committed to. One Sunday in 2001, he was in an avalanche and had to be helicoptered to Calgary. The day before, his 670’s motor packed it in, but that wasn’t going to stop him from missing a Sunday ride. He got an ’88 Phazer going that was later buried. While in the hospital the only thing he could think of was buying another 670 in a nearby town to revive his own. The avalanche seemed to be a defining moment for Schuler, a close call with something powerful. Since the incident he doesn’t ride past the first week in April, and for someone that rides every weekend prior, that bears a combination of respect for the mountain and near superstitious connotations. Brian went to Revelstoke once, it was cloudy, and he hasn’t been back since. Golden, BC is his territory, his favorite spot being Gorman Lake, which he rides almost every weekend. It’s a spot that he’s ultimately content with and can always find a challenge in. Often he will show up to the parking lot alone and asks to tag along with a group, which ends up with him guiding them around. There are not enough Brian Shulers out there. His satisfaction in riding Gorman on a regular basis is almost like a reflection of what he has in his world; he’s content with it. An honest man with an uncompromising devotion to the mountains, Brian represents the purest aspects of mountain snowmobiling.