Full Commitment Only: Filming on Vancouver Island
There’s a sound that never makes it into the final cut.
It’s the sound of silence — right before someone drops into a line that could destroy a bike, a body, or both.
That silence happened a lot during Episodes 5, 6, and 7 of Hard Enduro Burros, filmed deep in the moss-covered rock slabs of Vancouver Island. From behind the camera, those moments are unmistakable. Helmets go on. Laughing stops. Everyone suddenly stares at the same slab, wall, or splatter, knowing exactly what’s about to happen.
This terrain doesn’t reward hesitation. It punishes it.
From a filmmaking perspective, Vancouver Island was one of the most visually striking — and mentally intimidating — places we’ve ever filmed. From a riding perspective, it’s ruthless. Slick granite, wet moss, unpredictable traction, and consequences that don’t forgive mistakes.
And that’s exactly why it works so well for Hard Enduro Burros. Welcome to Trystan Hart’s training grounds.
The Slickest Giant Lines We’ve Ever Seen
Trystan Hart has spent years riding here, and it shows. The way he looks at lines on Vancouver Island is different than anywhere else. He doesn’t see obstacles — he sees a complex puzzle to solve.
As he explains early on:
“At the bottom of each slab I just try to shut all thoughts in my brain and think about the steps I need to do… and nothing else.”
That mentality sets the tone for the entire shoot.
From a directing standpoint, this location forces authenticity. You can’t fake commitment here. You can’t “make it look big.” The rock is slick. The run-ins degrade after one attempt once the moss layer is ripped off. The first rider always has the advantage, which turns every line into a race against traction.
That tension — who goes first, who waits, who sends — is where the real story lives.
Trystan the Instigator (and Why Everyone Levels Up Because of It)
Off the racecourse, Trystan is anything but robotic. On Burros shoots, he becomes something else entirely: the instigator.
He has a habit of choosing lines that feel less like suggestions and more like ultimatums.
As Branden put it perfectly:
“He’ll choose the gnarliest line in the parking lot and say, ‘This is the only way out.’”
From behind the camera, I’ve learned this isn’t ego — it’s strategy.
Trystan understands group psychology. He knows that once one person commits, nobody wants to be the guy who backs out. He knows that pressure — the good kind — elevates everyone. And he knows exactly how far to push before things go from fun to dangerous.
There were multiple moments across these episodes where a line sat untouched for hours or days. Everyone circled it. Everyone “thought about it.” And then Trystan would casually say just enough to make walking away impossible.
Suddenly, cameras are rolling, and the insane shots of these episodes are born.
The Burros Dynamic: A little Hazing, Lots of Trust, and Some Catching of Bikes
In hard enduro, being last to send means nothing but silent hazing. Being first means you set the bar, and establish your name. In between takes, that pressure hangs in the air like desert dust.
As the director, I love that tension. I love how every attempt — success or failure — builds on the last. And I love catching those raw moments: hesitation, commitment, victory, and sometimes, spectacular failure.
One of the biggest misconceptions about Hard Enduro Burros is that it’s chaos for the sake of chaos.
It’s not.
Yes, there’s constant heckling and messing with each other. Yes, rocks get thrown. Yes, people get roasted after a failed line. But underneath all of it is an unspoken agreement: everyone is pushed to be better and improve.
There’s a moment in Episode 5 where the exposure ramps up dramatically — sheer cliffs, a lack of traction, bikes launching into the sky. What doesn’t always register on camera is how much coordination is happening off-screen. These riders have eyed these lines for days and weeks and knew exactly how to approach them.
It made it fun for me to shoot because the guys already knew all the heavy lines they wanted to hit, so we just checked off one after another throughout the 3 days.
Spenser said it best when it came to teaming up to attempt these big trials style lines.
“It’s cool that the guys up top are willing to put their season on the line to catch a bike or keep you safe.”
From a filmmaking standpoint, that trust allows us to stay close to get the best shot. The close-up, wide-angle shot really shows the massive scale of these rock slabs. Real reactions. No artificial distance. The audience feels like they’re standing right there — because we are.
Spenser Wilton on the Stark: No Clutch, No Problem
One of the most compelling subplots across Episodes 5–7 was Spenser Wilton on the Stark electric bike which was totally out of left field and not what I expected going into this shoot.
Riding Vancouver Island terrain is hard enough on a traditional enduro bike. Doing it without a clutch, changes everything. No clutch modulation. No ability to load the flywheel. Just throttle control, timing, and absolute commitment. Honestly just having a massive set on ya to just send it like that!
Spenser sent lines that genuinely made the group pause — but he did pay for it. Hard. Multiple times.
What stood out wasn’t the crashes — it was the recovery.
He’d tumble, the bike would cartwheel, and somehow, he’d pop up smiling, brushing moss off his gear, ready to go again. From behind the camera, those moments matter. They show resilience in real time and got everyone hyped up to go bigger.
As Trystan said after watching him send yet another impossible attempt:
“He’s kind of like a cat — no matter what angle he’s in, he always lands on his feet.”
That attitude is Burros culture distilled. Attempt. Fail. Attempt again. Succeed. Rinse. Repeat.
Hard enduro has a stereotype: two-strokes rule everything.
But Branden Petrie showed up on a four-stroke and starts dismantling that narrative.
Petrie is fascinating to film because his riding on the 4 stroke on paper just shouldn’t work. Easier flame out, less forgiving suspension, and different power curve. But somehow it works. He says he almost prefers the 4 stroke in some situations where aggression and power combined with commitment will actually work in your favor more than a 2 stroke.
Watching him attack slick slabs on Vancouver Island was eye-opening. The torque delivery. The stability. The way the bike stayed planted with supreme rear wheel control.
Someone summed it up perfectly on the hill:
“That might not be the bike… that might just be him.”
Those moments matter because being a Burro isn’t about one style of riding. It’s about showing what’s possible on two wheels and being versatile in the face of challenge — even when it goes against convention.
Why These Episodes Were Harder to Film Than They Look
From the outside, these episodes look like non-stop sending.
From behind the lens, they were calculated chaos.
Vancouver Island forced constant repositioning. Angles that worked once were unusable ten minutes later. Moss got ripped up. Traction vanished. Rain rolled in unpredictably. Every setup had a ticking clock.
There’s also the mental side of filming this close to danger. When you’re riding, your focus narrows. When you’re filming, you have to stay wide — tracking lines, watching riders, watching for bikes coming back down the mountain.
There was a moment when James wanted to hit a whacky tree gap line that Trystan thought was dumb so I handed the camera to Trystan for a shot — because I knew when the Robot gets this revved up its going to be hilarious.
It lasted about ten seconds.
The footage looked exactly like how it felt — unstable, shaky, chaotic with Trystan screaming at James. Perfect proof that riding and filming are two completely different skill sets. It made for an unforgettable moment that’s for sure.
If there’s one takeaway from Episodes 5, 6, and 7, it’s this: Vancouver Island doesn’t allow half-commits.
You either go for it fully — or you don’t go. The slabs don’t typically have halfway bailout points, so it’s all or nothing starting at the bottom.
That reality shapes everything. Riders rush to go first before traction disappears. Lines escalate because nobody wants to be last. Fear becomes fuel.
As James said during a particularly tense moment:
“You just have to turn the brain off and go for it.”
That’s not recklessness — it’s clarity…. or is it??
The peak of the energy was when Peewee Burro Aaron Grand decides to strap on a GoPro and attempt the biggest line of the week — Ryan’s Wall. The energy was all time when he scraped by and made it to the top. Well done kid.
At its core, Hard Enduro Burros isn’t about proving who’s the best. It’s about documenting the process of pushing limits — together.
These episodes show that better than anything we could try to create artificially. The crashes. The fails. The laughter. The quiet moments before big sends. The shared relief when everyone makes it back up top.
From a filmmaker’s point of view, this is the sweet spot: real riders, real terrain, real risk, and real camaraderie. And the best is when the riders bring the lines to the camera. They did their homework in this zone and knew exactly what they wanted to attempt and show the world.
If you haven’t watched Episodes 5, 6, and 7, check it out! Watch how the lines escalate. Watch how the group dynamic shifts. Watch how fear turns into confidence — sometimes in a single attempt.
👉 Watch the full Vancouver Island series on YouTube
👉 Share this blog with someone who thinks hard enduro “isn’t that hard”
👉 Drop a comment — tell us which line scared you the most
Every view, share, and comment helps fuel the next adventure.
Final Thoughts
Filming with Burros for 3 days in Vancouver Island reminded me why I do this.
Because struggle is addictive but overcoming adversity is the high we all crave.
Because pushing together is better than pushing alone.
Because sometimes the best stories happen when bikes break, peer pressure builds, and someone says, “Alright… who’s first?”
That’s Hard Enduro Burros.
And we’re just getting started.
Cheers,
Burro Blake
