Todd Kohlman burton

While on the hunt for 1990s park photos from Bear Mountain and Snow Summit for an editorial story a few years back, there was this particular photograph of Jeff Brushie in Snow Summit’s halfpipe I just had to get my hands on. After asking several industry friends where I could find it, I was referred to “the only guy who might know more about Burton than even Jake.” 

The guy’s name was Todd Kohlman, and within an hour of receiving my email, his reply popped up in my inbox with that exact image attached. There it was: Brushie, weightless, mid-air-to-fakie, dreads floating, mute grab tweaking. Vibes just pumping. Iconic. Photographed by Jon Foster, the image found its way onto the cover of TransWorld Snowboarding’s January 1994 issue, then immediately onto my bedroom wall. This Todd dude had done it. 

Fast-forward several years and many, many magazine features, and Todd—or “TK,” as most call him—has delivered time and time again. Regardless of the obscurity of the request—for a specific image, for the 2007 Mark XIII collection catalog, or to locate and dust off all 29 years of Burton Customs to photograph (see page XXX)—the dude makes it happen.

TK is a rare breed—the only archivist in all of snowboarding. He eats, sleeps and breathes all things Burton. He’s not just a brand fanboy, though. He’s a snowboard addict. Respect.

TK’s history with Burton reads almost like a fairy tale. His interest in the brand began with his first day snowboarding, when he was so excited to experience a Craig Kelly Air from his local rental shop’s fleet—a board that, to this day, he couldn’t believe was being rented out. Regardless, his first day on-hill in 1992 sparked a love for a sport and culture that has captured us all. In rural Wisconsin, where TK grew up, shred mags were hard to come by, so Burton’s annual catalog mailer became his window into snowboarding. He studied everything within it, every season.

After graduating college, the only company TK had his sights set on working for was Burton. After sending a résumé but getting no response, he and his dad hopped in the car with a literal jar of quarters he’d saved up and drove from Wisconsin to Burlington, Vermont, to see if he could get face time with someone in HR.

Long story short, it worked, and TK’s first day as a Burton employee was Oct. 7, 2002. The fairy tale doesn’t end there, though, because Burton’s annual Fall Bash, an event all employees are invited to, was being held at Jake and Donna’s house on October 5.

So, two days before his first official day, a starstruck “Todd from Wisconsin,” as he introduced himself to Jake, was absolutely living his dream.

In 2007, after TK had gained experience in just about every customer service role that exists at the brand, Jake himself tapped him on the shoulder to become Burton’s archivist, a role Todd didn’t even know existed. Over the years, several staffers had been mindful of keeping one of everything that the company produced. What landed the position for TK, though, were two things: First, he has an unmatched penchant for details. You can ask the guy anything about Burton on the spot, and within a moment he’ll have the answer, no matter how arcane the question. (Trust me. I’ve tried to stump him.) Second, Jake had a unique relationship with Todd, where the two never talked business—only snowboarding. They’d connect over conversations about the gear they’d been riding the day before, where they had been snowboarding and plans for future outings. It was a bond forged over a mutual love for getting out and doing it. After all, it’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?

TK’s day-to-day routine involves cataloging every single Burton product ever created and keeping ahead of the curve with upcoming releases. He’s responsible for tracking down every SKU, from glove liners to leather Analog jackets to unfinished 1982 Backhill decks from Burton’s original workshop—and fulfilling press requests for iconic photographs of childhood heroes. At 2 p.m. sharp every weekday, however, that all screeches to a halt when TK heads over to the Burton Museum, where he leads the daily tour (which, as a lifelong snowboarder, I highly recommend). Without spoiling the ending, the tour showcases relics from the first moments of snowboarding, touches on Craig Kelly’s incredible contributions to our sport and culture and even includes a lopped-off dreadlock from that certain photograph of Jeff Brushie—what began spinning the web for this whole story.