45 companies. Thousands of careers built. $50 million+ given back. He is just getting started.

In 2026, Brent Marshall moved to Asia. Not for rest. Not for the weather. To be inside the market he believes will change the world — and to build a life with his partner, Nikki, in the region she calls home.

The choice was also personal. Brent considers the Indonesian people among the kindest and most genuinely appreciative he's encountered anywhere in the world — and he wanted to put his business experience and technology to work for a country and people who are open to the help, not skeptical of it.

Chinese electric vehicles have already transformed the region's roads. XPENG, BYD, Geely, Chery, Changan, SAIC, and Great Wall Motor — among the largest Chinese automakers by global sales, and brands that most Canadians have never heard of — are everywhere here. Brent has walked their showrooms, test-driven their vehicles, and spoken with their dealers. He's not reading reports. He's living the data.

From Asia, he's working to bring Chinese EVs to Canada, Australia, the UK, and New Zealand — markets he believes are ready for vehicles that outperform their Western equivalents at half the price.

In parallel: AlbertEyes™ 360 — AI smart glasses with Full Spatial Awareness, patent pending. Seth.AI — an ethical AI platform. And an ecological reserve island in the Kepulauan Seribu archipelago, built as a proving ground for technology every home and community could eventually benefit from: pyrolysis machines converting plastic waste to fuel, briquette-making machines turning waste biomass into clean-burning charcoal, and an AI-monitored coral reef rehabilitation system — all developed with his own AI systems, tested in the real world before they scale.

And for fun: the Most Interesting Man / Woman / Human platforms — a validated, no-fake-flexing scoreboard of extraordinary lives, launching soon.

The story isn't finished. Not even close.

“I didn't move to Asia to slow down. I moved here because this is where the next chapter is being written.”

Off the coast of Jakarta in the Kepulauan Seribu archipelago sits a 12-hectare island that Brent is quietly turning into something the world hasn't seen before — a working model for how humans and nature can rebuild together.

The vision: a self-sustaining sanctuary. Solar and wind power. Coral and mangrove restoration. A plastic-to-fuel pyrolysis system that converts ocean debris into clean energy on-site. Biochar returned to the soil. Wood vinegar used as natural pesticide. Nothing wasted.

The pyrolysis kiln — designed to be built by local workers using locally available materials — processes the plastic waste collected from the surrounding waters daily. Visitors participate in the collection. The island powers itself.

And then — in keeping with how Brent has always operated — all of it is being released open-source. The engineering drawings. The kiln design. The briquette press specs. Free, for anyone in the world to build.

"If this works here, it can work anywhere. A fishing village in Indonesia. A coastal community in the Philippines. A beach town in West Africa. You don't need money. You need the plans and the will to build it."

“If this works here, it can work anywhere. You just need the plans and the will to build it.”

Northland Dodge Chrysler Jeep Ram in Prince George. Brent took over an underperforming location just before AutoCanada went public and, inside sixty days, turned it into the largest auto dealer in BC. Inside a few years, the largest in Canada.

The numbers that followed were the numbers that make OEMs pay attention: #1 FCA dealer in Canadian history for volume, Customer Satisfaction Index, Return on Sales, and Return on Investment — all in one building — and the largest Return on Investment of any AutoCanada store, period.

BC's #1 Dodge dealer for nine consecutive years. Canada's #1 Dodge dealer for six. AutoCanada's youngest founding shareholder.

Over his career, he'd train more than a dozen Dealer Principals from the ground up and over 1,400 staff. Open new points for five OEMs across Canada. Consult on 25+ dealership turnarounds — all while personally operating 18 of his own companies.

PACCAR — the parent company behind Kenworth and Peterbilt, two of the most iconic names in commercial trucking — needed someone to evaluate their next-generation EV and hydrogen-powered Class 1 trucks. Not a journalist. Not a PR stunt. A real operator who could push the vehicles to their limits and give an honest technical assessment.

They called Brent Marshall.

It made sense. He has held a Class 1 commercial truck licence since age 18. He has hauled dual Super B trailers loaded with high-octane fuel through the mountain passes of northern BC — one of the most statistically dangerous jobs in Canada. He has raced Ferraris and McLarens on track. And he drives a modified Freightliner M2 as his personal daily vehicle.

On track, Brent pushed the EV and hydrogen rigs to speeds nobody had reached in those vehicles before. Another Canadian first. Another day at the office.

“Class 1 licence since 18. Raced Ferraris on track. There isn't a vehicle category I haven't operated at the limit.”

Seven years of volunteer fire service in Houston, BC. Unpaid, on-call, running toward the fire when everyone else was running away.

One night the floor of a burning trailer gave out under him. A fellow firefighter named Ken Carsten reached down, hooked him under the armpits, and pulled him out. They backed slowly out of the trailer together.

Ken Carsten. Brian Timms. Perry Slaney. Corey Timms. Trevor Matthews. Ken Thomson. Ron Farrell Sr. The closest-bonded men of Brent's young life.

When Brent retired early, they let him keep the helmet. It still carries the soot of seven years of actually showing up.

“You cannot understand Brent Marshall without understanding that he was shaped by men who ran into burning buildings together — for strangers, for free, because someone had to.”

Before any single story below, the shape of the whole thing: over $52 million donated across more than 40 organizations and events, more than $7 million given personally, and a standing '50% pledge' — roughly half of everything Brent has earned over his career has been given back to someone who needed it more than he did.

It shows up in a lot of different rooms. A pediatric wing at a northern BC hospital. A children's hospice. An autism network. A charity for single mothers in crisis that grew from $400K to $6.2M under his and a partner's backing. The Okanagan Dream Rally — critically ill kids riding in supercars across the BC interior, over $1M raised in the 2018 season alone, a CF-18 fighter-jet flypast, a standing partnership with the August Family Foundation. A 133-acre motorsport park handed back to the community it was built for, in perpetuity. Years of quiet partnership with International Justice Mission and Dean Brody, helping raise over $500,000 to free children from sex trafficking rings around the world — work he intends to take further. A $500,000+ commitment through his RE/MAX office to Ronald McDonald House BC, backed by a $50,000 donation at a recent RMH charity auction and a Ryan Reynolds/Deadpool 2 partnership that made the RE/MAX Gives Back! ad campaign.

None of it followed a script written by a foundation's marketing department. It followed whatever was actually in front of him — a sick kid, a friend losing her hair to chemo, a track that was about to disappear, a cause a friend cared about. He showed up, and usually left having raised more than anyone expected.

What follows are the individual stories. This page is just the shape of the whole.

“I've never once regretted the money that left. I've regretted the times I didn't show up sooner.”

Brent created the Northland Dodge Healthy Children's Fund as the charitable arm of his dealership in Prince George. He made a personal commitment to donate $100 from every vehicle sold, and kept that commitment for eight straight years. The annual Healthy Children's Fund Golf Invitational at Aberdeen Glen Golf Club ran year after year on top of it, raising $85,000 to $100,000 each season.

Those two streams — the $100-per-car commitment and the compounding annual golf tournament cheques — together built the Northland Dodge Healthy Children's Fund Pediatric Wing at the University Hospital of Northern BC — a contribution to pediatric care in northern BC that exceeded $3 million.

The inaugural launch made the front page of the Prince George Citizen on November 16, 2010, and the front page of the Prince George Free Press the following day, November 17, 2010.

Northern BC families no longer had to fly south to Vancouver for most pediatric care. The wing is still there. The kids still use it.

“We weren't going to keep watching kids fly south when we had the resources to bring the care home.”

Shannon Christensen started Mamas for Mamas as a Facebook swap group for Kelowna mothers in 2014. It grew into a registered charity with chapters across Canada — a specialized poverty-relief agency and community for mothers and caregivers in crisis. Under her leadership, and with sustained backing from Brent and Matt August, the organization's annual operating budget grew from roughly $400,000 to $6.2 million.

This wasn't a single cheque. It was years of showing up: a $50,000 donation with Shannon and Matt at the table, a second $50,000 outdoors on the waterfront, a $25,000 cheque handed over at the Prospera warehouse in September 2021, a $111,111.11 cheque at a restaurant on November 11th — Remembrance Day — a tribute to those who gave so much for us, and the on-camera $7,000 moment with Matt August that's still on file. Personal donations from Brent alone to Mamas for Mamas run in excess of $250,000 over the years — on top of the events, the sponsorships, and the countless hours helping Shannon build the organization into what it is today.

The growth wasn't cosmetic. Mamas for Mamas moved from a garage and storage units into a renovated, thousands-of-square-feet space that could actually serve the volume of mothers coming through the door — the direct result of an operating budget that kept climbing year over year.

Shannon did the hard daily work. The money showed up because the right people believed in her, again and again, not just once.

“Shannon did the hard daily work. The money showed up because the right people believed in her.”

The Okanagan Dream Rally takes children and youth who've been through real hardship — illness, loss, hard years — and gives them a ride of their life in some of the finest cars in the world, paired one-on-one with a driver for the day. Brent and his closest supercar friends drove it weekend after weekend, year after year, and he's quick to say he's only ever been a small part of what the August family built.

The story behind it starts with grief. In 2014, Matt and Michelle August lost their uncle Gary August — a founding partner of Coldwell Banker Horizon Realty in Kelowna — and were stunned by how many lives he'd quietly touched. Out of that loss, in 2015, the siblings co-founded the August Family Foundation with an ambitious five-year goal: raise $1,000,000 for local charities and families in need. The Augusts are a Kelowna business family three generations deep, going back to Archie August founding Kelowna Motors in 1945; today Matt and his father Brian run August Mazda and August Luxury Motorcars, and Michelle built SPINCO into roughly 15 locations across Canada.

The Okanagan Dream Rally became the foundation's flagship event — an exotic and sports car rally through the Okanagan Valley built for one purpose: put a smile on the face of a child who needs it. In the 2018 season, the Rally crossed $1M raised in a single year, complete with a CF-18 Hornet fighter-jet flypast over the valley. By 2019, its fourth year, the event topped $800,000 in a single day, with proceeds split between Ronald McDonald House BC and JoeAnna's House. By its 6th edition in July 2024, cumulative funds raised had passed $3.3 million. Heading into its 7th edition on July 25, 2026 — more than 200 luxury and exotic cars parading from downtown Kelowna across the William R. Bennett Bridge, through West Kelowna and Peachland, and back — that total stands at over $4.7 million raised for Ronald McDonald House BC & Yukon and the KGH Foundation, JoeAnna's House among them.

"Life gives you a hundred reasons to cry; let's show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile," Matt August has said of the mission. "We are only on the earth for a short time. Help give a thousand smiles to a child who needs it."

None of that scale happens without Matt and Michelle August and everyone the foundation has built around them — staff, volunteers, drivers, car owners, sponsors, a whole community that shows up every single time. What they've turned a single family's grief into is one of the most consistent, highest-impact fundraising engines in the Okanagan. Brent counts it among the philanthropic partnerships he's proudest to have been a part of — not as someone who built it, but as someone who kept showing up to help where he could.

The kids in the passenger seats of those Lamborghinis are the ones who remember it. The news coverage is a footnote.

Canuck Place is BC's children's hospice — care for children with life-threatening illnesses, and their families.

One of the children spent a day with Brent in the McLaren. The look on that boy's face is on video. Brent has asked that it be the anchor of any public conversation about what the cars were ever for.

There is nothing else to add here. Watch the video.

On September 25, 2018, Brent personally donated $17,500 to Canuck Place Children's Hospice — support that went directly toward care for kids like the boy in the McLaren.

Brent is also an official Canuck Place brand partner: Brent Marshall Real Estate donates 50% of its commissions to Canuck Place, and Canuck Place has run donation-matching campaigns backed by that partnership — including a Father's Day appeal where every June gift was matched up to $10,000 by Brent Marshall Real Estate.

It began with a bike. Almost forty years ago, as a teenager, Brent spent every dollar he'd earned outfitting a Diamondback turbo GT BMX — every trick accessory available at the time, right down to a carbon fibre seat. The height of performance for a kid's bike in that era. The day he got his driver's licence at 16, he no longer needed it. There was a boy in the neighbourhood whose father had been disabled in a logging accident — the family couldn't afford a bike, so the boy ran up and down the dirt road on foot, alongside the other kids on their bikes. Brent walked down to the basement, wheeled his prized BMX out into the daylight, and handed it over. His only condition: take care of it the way he had — as something he'd worked hard for, not something owed to him. That instinct never changed. Only the scale of what he had to give did.

Most recently: a 16-hour journey to an undisclosed airport, arranged quietly through personal connections, to grant a wish for a father of young daughters whose life was being taken by terminal cancer far too soon.

Before that: a trip to a small town in Alberta with his son Carter, to grant a dying man's two lifelong wishes — drive a supercar, and hit 200 mph. Carter drove the McLaren 675LT Spider behind Brent, who hauled the Lucra LC470 on a trailer donated for the purpose by Matt August. They arrived to meet the man's family in secret, with his doctor present to sign off — medically necessary for what came next — before taking him down the airstrip to do both, on the same day.

A young Mexican boy, in Canada for highly specialized surgery, told his doctors and nurses that his one dream while in the country was simply to see a Lamborghini. Word reached Brent through his healthcare connections — a doctor who cared enough to make the call. Brent didn't just bring one: he brought his Lamborghini Diablo VT Roadster, a very rare classic, and arranged for a friend to bring a Lamborghini Huracan Superleggera, so the boy could see both eras of the marque side by side. Friends lifted him from his wheelchair into the seat, and he was driven — in both cars.

A young man in Vancouver's Children's Hospital, fighting a rare form of cancer, wanted to learn to drive — the same as his friends back home, who were taking lessons from ordinary driving schools. His mother reached out to Ronald McDonald House. Brent's answer wasn't a driving lesson. It was a Ferrari 360 Modena F1 Spider, and a loop around Stanley Park, with the boy behind the wheel. He surprised the mother with video of her son driving it himself.

Supercars have been loaned out — repeatedly, no strings attached — to people who couldn't otherwise have one at their wedding for photos, handed over for the weekend simply because it mattered to them.

These are only the stories that got told. The pattern is the same every time: someone hears about a wish through a connection, a doctor, a mother, a friend — and Brent shows up, in person, with whatever will make it real. Not a cheque mailed in. Not a name on a donor wall. A drive, a passenger seat, a bike handed over on a dirt road.

“It started with a BMX bike I gave away at 16. The cars just made the wishes bigger.”

Brent has owned several cars over the years that were, at the time, the only one of their kind in Canada — the Spyker C8 Spyder is a prime example. It's a Dutch-built hypercar with a naturally-aspirated Audi V8, exposed gear linkage, and aviation-style interior. When Brent brought it into the country, it was the only Spyker C8 Spyder in Canada; a couple of others may have since arrived, but for years it stood alone. He no longer owns it — like the rest of the supercar collection, it moved on once its chapter was done.

It was wrapped in RMH Charities livery for Ronald McDonald House British Columbia and toured alongside the Drive For Thomas McLaren through August Luxury Motorcars. A rolling conversation-starter that people remember 10 years later.

It was later repainted in Gulf livery — the classic orange and blue endurance racing colours made famous by the 1970 Le Mans Gulf Porsche 917. The same car, two identities — chrome charity machine and Gulf racing icon.

For four years, Brent raced a VORE trophy truck in the Nevada desert. Brutal cars, brutal series, brutal weather. He ended up 2nd in class, outrunning factory-backed Porsche, Toyota, and Lexus entries in a truck more at home in a Mad Max movie than on a grid. The signature run was the Ironman: a full 15-hour race, solo, no co-driver, finished with both legs wrapped in bandages from the beating the vehicle put on his shins against the cage. A companion photo shows the Galavantier truck mid-rollover in the Nevada desert — he got up and kept driving. VORE Racing used a promotional shot of him over a Hunter S. Thompson “faster faster faster” quote for years.

The trophy truck racing was just the headline. The actual list runs longer: drag racing at NITRO Motorsport Park on the world's most northern NHRA-certified quarter mile, snowmobile drag racing (1st and 2nd place with racing teammate Landon Leduke), stand-up jet ski racing on Okanagan Lake, wake surfing behind the right boat, and two generations of water jetpack — an early JetLev unit and later an X-Jets Flyboard, both self-taught, and whatever else turned up with an engine, a throttle, or a couple thousand gallons of water a minute.

The snowmobile drag racing was serious. At events, quite often both of Brent's machines would make the finals. He'd give Landon the lesser-powered one. There were two guys from Burns Lake - Marco and Tony - who were fierce competitors and great people. He still misses seeing them at those events.

Stand-up jet skis — the Yamaha Superjet-style boats — are punishing, throwing you off on any wave you don't perfectly time; Brent raced them on Okanagan Lake for years. Wake surfing came easier — the lazier, older, wiser cousin of wake-boarding, drop the rope and ride the wake — and he's taught more than a few friends how to get up on the first try. Patient teacher, impatient student.

None of it was for show. Every one of these machines was pushed to what it could do.

Brent and Matt August flew to Barrett-Jackson - the World's Greatest Collector Car Auction - on a private jet. They came back with a Rat Rod.

The car was no ordinary build: bare raw steel body, no fenders, exposed supercharger sticking through the hood, massive blackwall tires, suicide doors. A 1920s-era silhouette with a modern blower motor. It had already been featured on the TV series 'Speed Is the New Black' before Brent owned it.

Of the 300+ toys, this was the one that was already famous when it arrived.

“We flew to Barrett-Jackson on a jet. We came home with a Rat Rod.”

Brent grew up in humble surroundings — a trailer park, then out on his own at 15. He didn't have a Lamborghini poster on his wall as a kid. He'd never even seen one in real life. But he made himself a quiet commitment: if he ever became the most successful businessman in his industry, and did it the right way — charitably, with a serious commitment to others — he would reward himself with a supercar. The pinnacle of automotive achievement. A Lamborghini or a Ferrari.

That commitment had conditions attached, and he met all of them. His dealership hit #1 in BC in a 60-day stretch, built by an amazing team around him. And he fulfilled a promise to build a children's wing at the local hospital — the commitment that became the Northland Dodge Healthy Children's Fund Pediatric Wing at UHNBC. Two goals, both real, both delivered. Only then did he let himself go after the third.

He flew down to Vancouver with a plan: buy a Ferrari 430 Spider, his first choice. He walked into the Ferrari dealership in jeans and a T-shirt — a young guy who, to them, obviously didn't have the means to buy a car like that — and got turned away. So he walked next door, into Lamborghini Vancouver, owned by Asgar (who, as far as Brent knows, still owns it today). They treated him with the respect the Ferrari store hadn't. He bought a 2006 Lamborghini Gallardo Spider that had just arrived on the lot — a car someone else's deal had fallen through on.

That Gallardo was the first of more than a dozen Lamborghinis Brent would own over the next 20 years — most leased rather than bought outright, for the tax efficiency of it, but every one driven exactly the way it was built to be driven. Not a static collection. A rotating fleet that came in, got used hard, and moved on.

An Attivo Corsa built for the track. An orange Murciélago LP 640 Roadster that was, at the moment it arrived in Canada, the ultimate supercar in the country — before Bugattis, before Paganis, it was the benchmark. A yellow Huracan that Carter learned to race in at Area 27, father and son on track together.

The red Diablo VT carries the most history of any of them: wrapped in charity livery, driven in a police-escorted supercar rally through the streets of Vancouver, delivered to Prince George through a snowstorm and driven straight off the truck, and later the car that gave a young Mexican boy his Make-A-Wish moment — lifted from his wheelchair into the seat for a ride he'd asked to see, not even to drive.

A blue Lamborghini SVJ Roadster on an Arizona road trip. A white Lamborghini used in Dream Rally TV promotion. Next Level Media's 2014 Lamborghini Gallardo poster — framed, still hanging, with a caption asking why it was never allowed to run commercially. Every era of the brand, at some point, sat in the driveway — some of them are still special to him to this day.

Like the rest of the collection, none of it is kept now. It was never about ownership. It was about proving to a kid from a trailer park that the goal was reachable — and about what the car could do once he got there, and who got to ride along.

“I never even had a Lamborghini poster on my wall. I made myself a promise — if I did it right, I'd earn one. Twenty years and a dozen of them later, I kept it.”

Brent owned multiple Ferraris. The 458 Challenge got run at Las Vegas Motor Speedway in a full race suit - that's the Ferrari at its best. The 458 Spider was black with red interior, picked up at Ferrari Maserati of Vancouver. Beautiful car. Sounded incredible. Too boring. Too pretentious.

The yellow Ferrari 360 Modena was wrapped for the Okanagan Dream Rally - Team Construction sponsor, RMH Charities livery, August across the windshield. He gave a kid a ride in it. Then he auctioned two charity packages worth over $100,000: 'Lotus Land Luxury' was a private jet from Vancouver to Kelowna, 8 supercars waiting on the tarmac, helicopters to wine tours, dinner at Sparkling Hills. 'James Bond for a Day' was a helicopter to Area 27 members-only track, Lambo or Ferrari or McLaren, full professional instruction, Nk'MIP Resort after.

The Testarossa was daily-driven in December. On Instagram, Dec 23, 2018: 'Mid-Dec and able to drive the cars each day?! What at winter.' Landon Leduke commented: 'Alberta plates eh... seems legit lol.'

“Great car. Sounded beautiful. Just too boring and pretentious.”

Brent and Paul Neider — a veterinarian, cynical and funny, scared of scorpions — on a back road somewhere in Arizona in the middle of a heat wave.

The Roush Mustang, running 185 km/h on a stretch no one drives, finally said it wanted gas. It coasted to a stop in empty desert.

Out of nowhere, a bright blue Lamborghini Aventador SV Roadster pulled up alongside. Driver: Ryan Fipke — son of Chuck Fipke, the Canadian diamond exploration legend — on the same road, at the same moment, with a jerry can.

They got Brent to the next town. He said his thank-yous. Then he turned around, drove back, and finished the run he'd started.

“The universe puts people in your path. Pay attention to who shows up on empty roads.”

When you own the world's most northern NHRA-certified quarter mile, the next logical step is to put your own dragster on it.

The Northland Performance alcohol dragster ran on the same strip Brent owned. Triple carb stacks, slicks, full cage. One of his favourite toys of all time - because it was built specifically for his own track.

He ran everything from this alcohol dragster to nine-second cars to snowmobiles and street bikes on that quarter mile over the years.

The launch alone was a thing to witness - throttle held wide open, thumb off the button, the front end lifting off the tarmac in a twist that never got old.

Brent sat in the cockpit of more dragsters and race cars than most people see in a lifetime. This one was personal.

“Built for my own track.”

Not a career. A weekend.

Brent ran three drag classes at the same time: his Northland Performance alcohol dragster; the green 1972 Challenger evolved into a purpose-built 9-second door-slammer on a full-length chassis with a mini-tubbed rear; and a custom-built turbo snowmobile dyno'd at over 400 horsepower — the second-most-powerful sled he'd ever heard of at the time, built with Eric from MC Xpress in Sweden.

He raced all of them. And on regular days, he also rode the 400hp sled in the BC backcountry like it was normal.

Over the years, Brent owned more than 12 Dodge Vipers - not as an investment, as a compulsion. The Viper was the car that proved American engineering could go toe-to-toe with anything Europe built, and he bought every variant that mattered.

Two of them held a claim no other car in the world could match at the time. The first: a year 2000 Hennessey Viper Venom twin-turbo - one of the fastest production-based cars on earth when it was built. The second: the RSI twin-turbo Viper that won the Texas Mile for fastest car in the world.

The crown jewel of the street collection: a one-off 2008 snakeskin-green Viper ACR Convertible built personally for Brent by the then-President of Chrysler. A relationship car. The last of its kind. Not for sale to the public anywhere else on earth.

He bought it. And drove it hard.

That ACR later crossed the block at Barrett-Jackson, selling as Lot #1417 for $510,000 — the kind of number that tells you exactly what it was.

Brent also owned a record-setting RSI-built 2014 Dodge Viper TA (Track Attack) shortly after it set the half-mile world record for a stock-platform Gen 5 Viper: a 200.5 mph (323 km/h) run at a WannaGoFast event on Heaven's Landing Airstrip in Clayton, Georgia, in May 2016. The car ran a twin-turbo (Precision turbos) 8.4L V10 on E85, making over 1,500 horsepower (around 1,250 hp on pump gas) — a rear-wheel-drive build on 19-inch wheels that kept a manual transmission and stayed street-driveable despite the numbers.

This is the incredible car collection — and the experiences that came with it — built over decades. A dozen-plus Lamborghinis. A full McLaren fleet. Multiple Ferraris. Nine Audi R8s. A dozen-plus Dodge Vipers, including a one-off built personally for Brent by the President of Chrysler. A Rat Rod that made Barrett-Jackson. A Dodge Demon. A Pagani Huayra test-drive. The oddballs — Prowlers, a Bronco, a Slingshot — that defied category entirely.

No car collection, ever. Just an ownership collection — vehicles that came in, got driven the way they were built to be driven, and moved on to make room for the next one. Below is a running sample of it: Teslas from the earliest delivery days in Canada, race days at Area 27 with Carter, a one-off snakeskin Viper, a Dodge Demon (840 horsepower, ordered the moment it was announced, then a purple one after it), a Pagani Huayra test-drive in Vancouver after an invitation from the local dealer, Vegas track weekends, and more that never got their own chapter but were absolutely part of the ride.

The McLaren fleet alone ran deep: a Mercedes SLR McLaren (taken to 338 km/h on the Coquihalla), a 650S Spider wrapped as the Drive For Thomas charity car that put 72,000 km on its odometer before a Canada Day crash ended its run, an MP4-12C in Volcano Orange, a 675LT Spider in Mantis Green with P1-trim hood and seats, a 650S at Laguna Seca's corkscrew, and an Artura. Every kilometre was earned. All of it is gone now.

A dozen-plus Lamborghinis over a lifetime — most leased rather than bought outright, for the tax efficiency of it — owned, driven, raced, and in some cases delivered to Prince George in a snowstorm and driven straight from there. A Gallardo Spyder, an orange Murciélago LP 640 Roadster (the ultimate supercar in Canada at the time it arrived — before Bugattis, before Paganis), a red Diablo VT wrapped in charity livery and driven in a police-escorted supercar rally through Vancouver, a yellow Huracán Carter learned to race in at Area 27, an Attivo Corsa built for track, and more.

At least nine Audi R8s over the years — more than any other single model in the collection. AWD, V10, mid-engine: everything a supercar should be, except capable of a Kelowna winter. When the snow came, the Lamborghinis went in the garage and the R8 came out; Canadian Stark magazine featured it as the definitive winter-driver supercar choice. In summer, while Brent rotated through the Lamborghinis and McLarens, the R8s didn't sit idle — he handed the keys to friends and family visiting Kelowna, a supercar as a loaner car. Every single one was covered in road salt and BC winter grime and never washed, same rule as everything else.

The oddballs never fit neatly into supercar, race car, or trophy truck, but they were all part of the ride: a restored Ford Bronco 351 in baby blue that drove like a washing machine on wheels (repainted McLaren orange to match, still gone immediately after), the first Polaris Slingshot in British Columbia (turned out to be a turd, became the kids' manual transmission school), a Super Air Nautique G25 (ridiculously overpriced, drives like shit, throws a decent wake — same verdict on every boat over the years), a Kubota tractor with a commercial-grade front-mount snowblower (because if you own the world's most northern NHRA drag strip, someone has to clear it in February), a Harley V-Rod Night Rod Special, a Plymouth Prowler, a Hennessey Viper Venom, a Roush Mustang, and a 1972 Dodge Challenger in green with the NOS purge line. Every single one was the right decision at the time.

The Porsches and Vipers ran through the whole story. A 997 Turbo built into the “Wicked Seven” widebody on Forgiato wheels — dyno-sheet and certificate to back the number. An orange 911 Turbo Cabriolet. On the Dodge side: a one-of-84 orange Viper ACR shot on the coast, a green Viper with black stripes at a gas station at night, track-helmet Viper days, and the red GTS parked with the Corvette and Crossfire. Same rule as everything else — driven the way they were built to be driven, then moved on.

None of them were washed. Not once — unless he loaned one to a friend. That was the only time any of his cars ever got cleaned. Because he gave a f*** less than a honey badger. The cars weren't trophies; they were instruments. Tools for experiencing what it feels like to be fully alive at speed. All of it is gone now. By choice. Not one regret.

This gallery will keep growing as more of the collection surfaces.

“They only got washed when I loaned them to friends. I gave a f*** less than a honey badger.”

Brent bought 135 acres about a half-hour north of Prince George and turned it into something that didn't exist anywhere else in Canada - NITRO Motorsport Park.

The world's most northern NHRA-sanctioned quarter-mile drag strip. A full Supercross track. An ATV race track. A 135-acre private lake, stocked with 10,000 Lois Lake steelhead. A full-service community facility for the motorsports community of northern BC.

And at the centre of it, a man-made beach. Not for Brent - for the kids of northern BC. 10,000 yards of sand hauled in by a local trucker named Gary up Chief Lake Road. Opened up to single parents and less-fortunate families so their kids could learn to fish. Lew's - the fishing-reel brand - sent up 100 complete rod-and-tackle sets for the children.

Long before the word existed, NITRO was a give-back-to-the-community project wearing the costume of a racetrack.

“The beach wasn't for me. It was for the kids who'd never seen one.”

The last few years were a quagmire — bad partners, broken investments, the kind of reset that teaches you who you are. Brent came out of it with clear eyes and a decision most people never make.

He let it all go. The cars. The collection. The material weight of a lifetime spent accumulating. Gone — not taken, chosen.

What he kept: a coat his uncle gave him before he passed. A hand-crafted Cortana, made by someone who matters. A painting of Seth as a Jedi, from the same. His animals. His children.

With the weight gone, he moved to Asia — to relationships he'd built over years, in countries and with people genuinely open to what he brings, and genuinely thankful for it. Not chasing a market. Choosing partners who value the help.

Call it a second wind, a rebirth, whatever language fits: a man in his fifties carrying the compressed life experience of someone decades older — built on sleeping less than most and consuming more information, more education, more of everything worth learning, for longer than most ever will. That's the fuel for this next stage.

Everything he builds from here goes outward — to the people who need it. He's had the most amazing life, and this stage isn't a slowdown. It's the stage where all of it — the businesses, the mistakes, the knowledge — finally gets put to full use helping other people, at scale.

“I've had the most amazing life. Any money I can create will go towards helping others.”

Ron Perlman — Hellboy, Sons of Anarchy — sat down with Brent and Jerry Myatovic at Earls in Kelowna one night.

Jerry is gone now. A cerebral bleed took him too soon. Brent carries him. Anyone who knew Jerry would tell you he was one of the funniest, sharpest humans they ever met.

Kim Coates — Tig Trager from Sons of Anarchy — is a real friend, not a one-off photo op. Multiple hangs over the years: a McLaren MP4-12C event, a night out in Phoenix, a Kelowna charity. Two Canadians, two very different lanes, one shared sense of humor.

And the producer credit: Stephen King's Dollar Baby program licences his short stories to independent filmmakers for exactly one dollar — King's way of giving creative people the same hand up he was given early in his career. In 2018, Brent was one of the producers of The Doctor's Case, a 65-minute Dollar Baby adaptation of King's Sherlock Holmes mystery story, co-starring Denise Crosby (Tasha Yar, Star Trek: The Next Generation) and William B. Davis (the Cigarette Smoking Man, The X-Files). IMDb listing nm9029436. He later produced Wicked Ways TV in 2021, credited on the same listing.

Brent read Stephen King as a kid growing up in Houston, BC — credits those books with giving him an early understanding of the dark side of people that pushed him toward the light side of his own life. Producing a King adaptation decades later wasn't a resume entry. It was a closed loop.

“Stephen King licences stories for a dollar to give filmmakers a hand up. I'm glad he gave us one.”

In 2018, as part of the Drive For Thomas and a Ronald McDonald House charity program, Brent worked on a partnership with Ryan Reynolds tied to Deadpool 2 — an on-set auction moment that made the RE/MAX Gives Back! ad campaign.

It took considerable persuasion to get there. That's as much as we'll put in writing.

The bigger number behind the moment: through his RE/MAX office, Brent committed over $500,000 to Ronald McDonald House British Columbia, in partnership with August Luxury Motorcars and Tempest Aviation Group. That sits alongside a $50,000 donation made at a recent RMH charity auction, and years of smaller contributions to Relay for Life, H.E.R.O.S., Prince George Hospice, the Kordyban Cancer Lodge, the Salvation Army, and ALS research.

Not a vanity archive — a dossier of public record.

The Scene Magazine (November 2017 — the “Canadian Stark” cover story). Supply Post (November 2018 cover + three-page feature). CXO Outlook (March 2023 — named one of the “10 Most Inspiring Business Leaders,” a five-page feature). Capital News (September 2019 Face of Philanthropy feature). Boulevard Magazine. KelownaNow Autism. Next Level Media's 2014 Lamborghini Gallardo poster. Racing in Northern BC magazine (“A Real Drag”). Northland NHRA dragcar article. NCRP Media Day clippings. The 2013 Balls Out Bonanza commemorative book. National News coverage of Area 27 track days. Multiple Dream Rally news segments. Automotive News Canada Congress — invited panelist on omnichannel dealership retailing. AutoTech Outlook (December 2022 — Omni Auto named a Top 10 Canada Automotive Technology Solutions Provider, with a feature on Omni Auto's APEX platform and omnichannel retailing).

Twelve years of coverage across BC's trades, lifestyle, and community press. The paper trail is public.

More recently: a guest spot on Collisions YYC, Tyler Chisholm's “Current & Critical” series, talking about running Business Finders Canada with purpose — committing to give before knowing if the venture would even turn a profit.

November 2015. Brent attended a UAE military and defence exposition in Emirati national dress - the white kandura and headdress - after being heavily security-screened into the event, which required clearance most civilians never get close to. He ended up in the cockpit of a UAE Apache AH-64 attack helicopter. Armed, on the tarmac, Emirati officers standing by. Not a simulator.

The show floor was unlike anything open to the general public - Raytheon cruise missiles, Roketsan anti-tank systems, MBDA's full European missile catalogue, South African Mokopa air-to-ground weapons, UAE's own Al-Tariq guided munitions, Milan ER infantry launchers. The kind of hardware you normally only see in Jane's Defence Weekly. Brent photographed all of it.

His local host took him through the city in a Ferrari F12, past the Burj Khalifa, and out into the desert for a camel safari. Red Bull in one hand, camel in the other.

He flew home and landed in Vancouver still wearing the kandura - then drove from the airport in his McLaren 650S. The YVR taxi line had opinions.

“Wherever I land, I show up all the way — in whatever the locals wear.”

This is the part where most city parents go pale.

Cassie, like the other children, learning to ride snowmobiles, dirt bikes, and ATVs by the age of three - and that continued on into their teen years. Seen above with a helmet far bigger than her head, big grin, asking if the machine can go faster.

Jaxson, only weeks after arriving at his new home in Canada, riding a miniature 50cc quad when most children are just learning to walk.

The boys learning to run all types of heavy equipment to build their own playground and tracks for their toys, which they would then enjoy with their friends coming over. Each learning to drive a manual transmission at a young age - Carter starting at age 12, which later led to racing supercars with his father. Cassie excelling in volleyball at the top provincial level. Jax being the superstar of every sport he tried.

Leading to incredibly proud parents, with examples like Carter making national news racing supercars, Cassie following a passion for dog training working directly with Cesar Millan, and Jax being the MVP in basketball games with more than 50 points in a single game, leading his team to victory.

The children even raced junior dragsters at speeds that would terrify most adults.

The rule in the Marshall house was never 'don't touch that.' It was 'let me show you how.'

Carter — the oldest son. The best child anyone could ask for, in Brent's words — never caused a moment of grief. At 15 he flew to Vegas alone to learn cell phone repair because that was his interest, so he went and did it. He graduated UBC with a Bachelor's in Finance, then stacked a real estate licence, a commercial real estate licence, and business broker licensing in rapid succession — specifically to free his father up to chase other ventures. When bad actors cost Brent millions through mismanagement and betrayal, Carter moved in and helped hold the family together during the turbulence. He shares his father's love of cars and racing — learned manual transmission at 9 or 10, was doing track time at Area 27 by 15. Carter is set up as full trust, same access as Brent, expected to take over the family's operations one day.

Cassie — the daughter who takes no shit. She inherited her father's love of music and his soft spot for animals; her childhood allergies led to sourcing American Hairless Rat Terriers, the first hilariously named Fluffy. Brent had her train personally with Cesar Milan — the world's most renowned dog trainer — because her love of animals deserved the best instruction available. She became one of the youngest realtors Brent has ever heard of to pass her licensing exam, an exam roughly 75% of people fail, while simultaneously fighting Lyme disease. She pushes back on her father, challenges his thinking, tells him exactly what she thinks without hesitation — and he loves her for it. The children who argue most with their parents are usually the ones most like them.

Jaxson — adopted from an orphanage in Lesotho, Africa. Brent is deeply proud of the attitude and grace Jaxson carried through circumstances that weren't always easy — including growing up in places that weren't always accepting of a Black child — and handled all of it without losing himself. Jaxson followed his own passion and became a barber, and by every account, an exceptional one; multiple people independently told Brent it was the best haircut they'd ever received, delivered by his own son. He built his own path and became his own man.

Seth — the youngest. Diagnosed with autism at a young age, nonverbal for a period, and grown into a young man whose mind perceives the world the way his father's does — a pattern-seeing, high-intensity way of processing that Brent himself has lived with his whole life. Seth's fixation on June 6th — D-Day, 1944, the day ordinary people launched the largest liberation in human history — became the launch date anchor for some of Brent's most ambitious technology work. His spontaneous salute at a veteran's ceremony remains one of his father's proudest moments.

Brent loves all four of his children equally, without hierarchy, without a favourite. Each one shaped a different part of who he is, and each one is named, honoured, and thought about daily — not as a footnote to his story, but as the reason most of it was worth building in the first place.

“The children who argue most with their parents are usually the ones most like them.”

There were always Great Danes at the Compound. A pack of them, wandering the property, draped across Restoration Hardware couches in the shop, following whoever was walking toward the lake.

Phil was a Great Dane Brent took in who came with megaesophagus - a condition most people put a dog down for. Phil needed to eat and drink sitting fully upright. So Brent built him a custom three-high chair. Phil sat in it every meal. He lived.

Phil also once rode shotgun in the Gallardo - big head stuck out the window, ears flapping, ignoring the 500-horsepower V10 behind him because he had bigger things on his mind.

“If I take a creature in, we figure it out. We don't figure out how to put him down.”

Someone taser-pranked Brent. He started laughing.

Every one of the wild vehicles Brent has owned, he's taken to its top speed — 200+ miles an hour, dozens of times.

Dr. Lonny Legault — Doc, his closest friend — once performed dental surgery on him without pain medication, at Brent's explicit request. Feeling the low is a highlight, because it's what makes the high afterward mean more. He's always believed a little pain first makes feeling good afterward better appreciated.

Playing with flamethrowers and letting people taser him are just other ways of making sure he's experienced everything.

It isn't adrenaline-chasing. It's a lack of self-preservation instinct that switched off a very long time ago, and from that position finds most things funny.

One personal rule, never broken: every car Brent has ever bought capable of breaking 320 km/h had to be taken there. If the speedometer went there, the car had to go there.

Most people watch the Canadian Forces skydiving team perform at air shows. Brent and Matt August jump with them.

“When you're not afraid to die, you'll try almost anything.”