In my conversation with Dave Turin on Constructive Conversations, we covered a lot of ground—from his early days in the family quarry business to his years on Gold Rush. But one story stood out as the most powerful example of leadership I've heard in a long time.
Dave opened up about one of his biggest career challenges: casting vision to others when you're the one who wants to take big risks. He described himself as adventurous, always the guy with a vision for bigger and better things—just like his dad.
"I became bored with running the same rock quarry and the same piece of ground for 30 years," Dave told me. "My dad and I were always the two in our business structure that had a vision."
But here's the challenge: Dave's older brother was the finance guy and much more conservative. Dave wanted to risk it all. Getting his brother on board—or getting Todd Hoffman to go along with his production-focused decisions on Gold Rush—required persuasive leadership.
"If you can cast that vision and cast it in a way that makes sense, that's leadership," Dave explained. "As you build your business, you can't have a personal connection with all 50 employees. But if I've got five or six guys that I can cast that vision to, and then they cast that vision—I think that's leadership."
I mentioned the book Extreme Ownership by Jocko Willink and Leif Babbin, which emphasizes belief in the mission. Dave had read it and agreed completely: "I have to own it. Just like a Navy SEAL—if that leader is going to lead somebody into danger, he has to own it. You've got to sell it. Whoever you're leading has to believe it."
Then Dave shared a story that truly exemplified extreme ownership and leadership. During season three of Dave Turin's Lost Mine, a dear friend died of a heart attack on set. It was devastating, and the timing made it even harder—they were isolated during COVID, working within a bubble that kept them safe but also meant they couldn't go get outside help.
"We had ourselves," Dave said. "My wife was there, my grandson was there, my six guys were there. We were a small group, and we had just lost a beautiful man. We loved the guy, and he loved all of us. We were family and a team."
The crew was grieving, sitting around campfires reminiscing, and being idle. It went on for five, six, seven, eight days. Finally, Dave made a decision.
"I said, 'Gentlemen, we gotta do something. We can't just continue to do this. I'm going to work tomorrow. I'm gonna put my boots on and I'm gonna start back to work. I hope you guys join me. If you don't, I understand. If it's gonna take a little more time, I understand.'"
The next morning, everybody was ready to go to work.
"Because we had a purpose, because we had a reason—I believe we're meant to get off our butts and actually go do something. We need a purpose in life," Dave explained. "Once we had that purpose, we started healing and we all bounced back. We came back from that stronger—a stronger team, a stronger family."
Dave is still tight with those guys today.
"That's extreme ownership," he told me. "A good leader has to pull himself up too and go, 'All right, let's go. We've got something to do.'"
I asked Dave what qualities he looks for when building a team. His answer showed how his philosophy has evolved over the years.
His dad instilled teamwork in the family business from the beginning. They always had a bonus system where if the company did well, everyone did well. They had Christmas dinners and took trips together. Dave also played a lot of football, including college ball, and loves it because "it's the ultimate team. You can't win with just one superstar."
But here's where it gets interesting. Early in his career, when his dad made him paving foreman at 18 years old, Dave had to learn to manage older people. He figured out that if he just worked harder than everybody else, he could lead.
Back then, Dave looked for people who were already competent at the specific tasks he needed—experienced loader operators, for example.
"But here's what I found," Dave said. "There's a difference between how some people train compared to how I train. Later in life, I discovered that I'd rather have a clean slate. If the person is a good person—morally upright—if I enjoy hanging out with them and they're good people, I would rather teach them my way of doing things."
He gave me a great example. If you hire a loader operator with 30 years of landscaping experience and tell him to load a truck in two minutes, he might say it's impossible. But if you hire someone who ran a corn combine and is good with equipment, you can teach him to run that excavator. When you tell him to load the truck in two minutes, he doesn't know any different—so he'll figure out a way to do it.
"If I can find somebody that I can train and do it the way I want to do it, I'd rather do that sometimes than have somebody with 30 years of experience who's done it their way," Dave explained.
It made perfect sense. Being trainable and being a team player matter more than years of experience—especially if those years ingrained habits you'll have to break.
Sitting with Dave and hearing these stories, I was struck by how leadership isn't about having all the answers. It's about owning the mission, casting the vision, pulling your team through the hardest moments, and being selective about who you bring on that journey.
As someone who works with construction companies as a CPA, I see the same principles apply across our industry. The best leaders aren't always the most experienced—they're the ones who can inspire belief, take ownership, and know when it's time to put their boots on and get back to work.
That's the kind of leadership that builds something lasting.
Listen to the full conversation with Dave Turin on Constructive Conversations, available on YouTube and wherever you get your podcasts.