EP 681: Connor Koch Some episodes just take a minute to get right. We lost the first version of this one — somewhere out there is an SD card with what I’m sure was a hell of a conversation — and you know what? Maybe that was the universe telling us to go again. Because this one hit different. Connor Koch is one of those guys who just operates on a different level. Arc’teryx ambassador for seven years, a man who’s climbed every 14er in the lower 48, skied big lines from Alaska to the High Sierra, and survived an 1,100-foot avalanche ride in ways that defy explanation. He’s the real deal. And now? He’s deep in the hunting rabbit hole, chasing elk solo through grizzly country with a bow he just learned to shoot, logging 70-plus days in the field and coming home with the kind of stories that remind you why we do all of this. We cover a lot of ground in this one. Connor grew up in a tiny San Diego-area town, never saw mountains until his Nissan’s transmission blew up somewhere near a place called Zzyzx on the way to Colorado. He pulled into Vail Pass, jumped out into the June air, and knew — at a cellular level, he says — that he’d found home. That moment launched a decade of elite mountain pursuits that would shape everything that came after. We dig into what it’s like to be a master of one discipline and a beginner in another — and how humbling it is when all your fitness and mental toughness still can’t outwit a wily bull elk. Connor talks about burning a shot opportunity 45 minutes into his first day of bow hunting, running 70+ days solo in the backcountry, getting his camp ripped apart by a known problem grizz the same night he hit a bull high, and why he doesn’t regret any of it. That’s the journey. That’s the process. But it goes way deeper than hunting. Connor opens up about the avalanche that changed him — a full slope that fractured wall to wall, a 1,100-foot washing machine ride, karate-chopping blocks of wind slab before getting obliterated, and emerging from the toe of the debris alive while his partners tunneled out around him. He talks about what that does to your relationship with risk, with the mountains, and with yourself. And then, the hardest decision of his career: turning down a prepackaged invite to ski 8,000-meter peaks in Pakistan, not because he couldn’t do it, but because he finally understood that some pages in your book are okay to leave blank. This is a conversation about reinvention, risk tolerance, the courage to step off the ship when it’s time, and what happens when a man who spent a decade trying to conquer mountains starts learning to be conquered by elk season. Oh, and also — he’s catering his entire wedding with two cow elk and some deer he harvested himself. That’s the kind of dude Connor Koch is. Pull up a chair. This one’s worth every minute. This Episode Is Brought To You By onX Hunt If you’re serious about hunting out west, onX isn’t optional — it’s foundational. Land ownership, access, terrain, and a full suite of tools built for every part of the hunt: the planning, the prep, and the pursuit. The difference is simple. It’s confidence. Confidence that you’re in the right spot, confidence that you’re legal, confidence that you can get back to the truck. That’s what onX gives you. Become an Elite Member today and save 20% with code TRO Visit: www.onxmaps.com?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss Bridger Watch This one’s personal — Bridger Watch is Cody Rich’s own company, so yeah, shameless plug incoming. It’s a full-feature smartwatch built by hunters, for the hunting lifestyle. Not just for the hunt, but for everything that surrounds it. Training, mapping, texts, and most importantly: insane battery life. Because battery life matters in the backcountry, full stop. If you’re a watch guy, you already get it. No compromise, no fluff. Just a watch built the way it should’ve been built all along. Visit: www.bridgerwatch.com?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss Timestamp Chapters 0:00 — Intro & Sponsor Reads — onX Hunt and Bridger Watch 2:15 — The Lost Episode: A Cop, a Bow, and a County Line 4:00 — Connor Gets His Life Back in Order — Four Months of Spring Skiing 5:00 — The Purcells and the High Sierra — Whitney, Muir, Langley, and a Broken Binding 7:00 — 30,000-Foot View: Arc’teryx, Mountain Pursuits, and a Big Boy Job 9:00 — Climbing Every 14er in the Lower 48 — And Why the Number Is Arbitrary 10:30 — The Origin Story: Erik Weihenmayer, a Blown Transmission, and Finding Home in Colorado 14:00 — Arriving at Vail Pass and Knowing — The Moment That Changed Everything 15:00 — Identity, Selfishness, and the Next Chapter 17:00 — Close Calls: A Rubber Band, a Carabiner, and 200 Feet of Air 19:00 — How Hunting Fills the Gap — And Gives You a More Complete Relationship With the Landscape 22:00 — Vert Records, Big Days, and Getting Old 23:00 — Bringing a Mountain Athlete’s Mindset Into Elk Hunting — Asset or Liability? 26:00 — Going Solo: Three Months, a Bow, and the Backcountry 27:00 — Losing a Bull on September 15th — The Shot, the Rain, and the Grizzly 31:00 — What It Means to Really Want Something and Not Get It 33:00 — Elk Hunting Is Not Meritocracy — And That’s the Point 37:00 — Visualizing Success: How Pre-Prep and Commitment Breed Confidence 38:00 — Confidence in the Face of Doubt — The Dark Arts of High-Exposure Terrain 43:00 — A Duty to the Animal: Why He Never Considered Leaving Camp 45:00 — Hunting as a New Relationship With Death — Feeding His Wedding on Wild Elk 47:00 — Wild Pigs, Weddings, and Getting Attacked at the Worst Possible Moment 49:00 — The Honest Ratio: 70 Days to One Elk 52:00 — If You Only Had 10 Days: The Discipline of Slowing Down 55:00 — Day One, 45 Minutes In, Five-Point at 42 Yards — And Why He Let Him Walk 58:00 — The Advice No One Wants to Hear: Passing Elk Builds the Best Hunters 1:00:00 — Confidence on the Skinny: Why Doubt Has No Place on Exposed Terrain 1:01:00 — The First Avalanche — Skiing Into a Rock Wall and Getting Shepherded Out with One Hand 1:03:00 — The Second Avalanche — An 1,100-Foot Ride, a Bag of Costco Mangoes, and Everyone Lives 1:11:00 — Redefining Risk and Stepping Back From the Edge 1:13:00 — Stealing Fire, Broken Necks, and the Identity Shift Into Bow Hunting 1:16:00 — The Pakistan Trip He Had to Turn Down — And Why He’s Finally Okay With Blank Pages 1:21:00 — What It Means to Move Into the Next Chapter 1:22:30 — Final Ask: Try the Thing That Scares You 1:23:30 — Wrap-Up and Watch Plug 3 Key Takeaways for Listeners 1. Your Greatest Strength in One Arena Can Be Your Biggest Weakness in Another Connor came into elk hunting as an elite mountain athlete — faster, fitter, and more mentally tough than almost anyone in the field. And it nearly worked against him. He was blowing out animals by moving too fast, pushing wind when he shouldn’t have, covering miles that didn’t need covering. The hard-won lesson: hunting rewards patience and animal knowledge above all else. Fitness is a tool, not a cheat code. The most valuable thing a hunter can develop — that gut intuition built from thousands of hours of observation — can’t be outworked or outrun. Know what you bring to the table, and be honest about where the gaps are. 2. The Process Is the Point — Not Just a Cliché Connor spent 70+ days chasing elk solo and came home with hard-earned lessons he wouldn’t trade for anything. He let a five-point walk at 42 yards on day one. He lost a bull to a high hit, a rainstorm, and a problem grizzly. He laid in his shredded tent for days still searching. And he says he doesn’t regret any of it. Not because it sounds good, but because every one of those moments compounded into something real. The hunters who last — and who eventually become consistently successful — are the ones who decide early that the journey is the whole thing, not a detour on the way to the outcome. 3. Knowing When to Step Off the Ship Is Its Own Kind of Courage One of the most powerful moments in this conversation is when Connor talks about turning down an invite to ski 8,000-meter peaks in Pakistan — a trip he’d been dreaming about for years. Not because he was scared. Not because he couldn’t do it. But because he finally understood that some chapters have to close so others can open. He’d survived avalanches, close calls, and years of operating on the edge, and he arrived at a place of genuine peace with leaving certain pages in his book blank. That kind of self-awareness — knowing your season, honoring your current chapter, and resisting the pull of old identity — is rare. And it applies way beyond the mountains.
