The Plan Is Going to Change

VanSant has spent much of his life in situations where poor decisions carry real consequences. He served more than 20 years in the United States Army, completing 11 combat deployments as a member and team leader in the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment–Delta (Delta Force), before moving into equipment development, corporate operations, and defense consulting.

His experience spans the field and the boardroom. But the same basic principles always matter: know your goal, understand your people, and get them ready for when things don’t go as planned.

VanSant sees leadership as less about being the loudest and more about building clarity along with trust so others can do their best work.

The team is the strategy

Popular culture often depicts military leadership as a one-way, top-down system: an order is given, and everyone below follows. VanSant describes something very different, especially in special operations, where every team member offers a distinct capability.

A good leader doesn’t try to make everyone the same. Instead, they find ways to bring out and combine everyone’s strengths.

“Different team members bring different things to the fight or the job.”

That starts with self-awareness. Leaders need an honest understanding of what they do well, where they fall short, and which strengths the group lacks. From there, they can place people in roles that reward competence rather than forcing everyone into the same mould.

Confidence matters. When people are trusted to do what they do best, they step up. A leader who knows what drives each person can give the right balance of freedom and support. That’s how you build real trust.

This lesson followed VanSant into business. After retiring from the Army in 2015, he became chief operating officer of tactical-equipment company TYR Tactical and later moved into independent defense-industry consulting. The context changed, but building effective teams did not.

The pressure changed, too. Corporate decisions could affect a company's health together with the livelihoods tied to it, but they weren't life-or-death. That distinction helped him remove emotion from business, assess what was at stake, and make decisions with greater perspective.

Intent over instructions

No plan survives reality untouched. Conditions shift. Information arrives late. Equipment fails. People get tired. What matters is whether the team understands enough to adapt without losing sight of the objective.

VanSant uses the military concept of commander’s intent: a clear expression of the desired outcome and why it matters. When people understand that intent, they do not need to wait for permission every time circumstances change. They can solve problems independently while still moving in the same direction.

“No matter how much you plan, things are always going to change.”

This is where step-by-step instructions stop working. A rigid team might do everything right—until things change. An adaptable team notices the shift and figures out how to keep moving toward the goal.

That principle applies well beyond military operations. In a young business, the market can move faster than the strategy deck. On a mountain, weather can erase the safest route. In any high-pressure team, the person closest to the problem may need to decide before a senior leader can weigh in.

Preparation is still important. VanSant pays close attention to people, equipment, terrain, weather, and what-ifs. But it’s not about controlling every detail—it’s about being primed to adapt.

The limits of pushing through

Resilience is often mistaken for the ability to absorb unlimited stress without showing it. VanSant knows why that belief persists. In high-performance cultures, people learn to compartmentalize emotion, focus on the task at hand, and keep moving. In the short term, that can be necessary.

The problem is treating an emergency response as a permanent way of living.

“The expectation is that you suck it up and keep moving. And that works for a time—until it doesn’t.”

VanSant has talked openly about dealing with post-traumatic stress and substance abuse, and about turning those experiences into advocacy for other veterans. His point isn’t to stop when things get hard—but to pay attention to what’s going on.

Long-term fatigue, loss of mental clarity, persistent exhaustion, and unexplained physical changes can all signal that something needs to be addressed. The first step is an honest self-assessment: notice when your baseline has shifted, rather than normalizing a slow decline.

The next step is communication. That may start with someone you trust, a partner, friend, or teammate, and extend to medical or mental-health support when appropriate. Talking doesn't instantly resolve what happened, but it interrupts isolation and makes the problem visible enough to work on.

To VanSant, resilience isn't about staying silent and pushing through. It means pausing, figuring out what you need, getting support, and coming back clearer.

Distance creates perspective

The outdoors gave VanSant room to begin that process.

As he prepared to leave the military, his wife recognized that the transition would require more than a new job. Together, they chose the John Muir Trail: roughly three weeks moving through the Sierra Nevada, with long days on foot and little contact with the outside world.

After a few days, the usual noise fell away. No constant messages or inbox notifications, only movement and authentic conversations. The trail created enough distance for VanSant to begin processing experiences he had borne for years.

“It taught me how to communicate again.”

Each day still required effort, equipment, decisions, and forward progress. But the rhythm simplified the environment. With fewer distractions competing for attention, I could examine difficult thoughts rather than suppress them.

That became part of a larger relationship with mountaineering. VanSant later pursued the Seven Summits to raise awareness for veteran mental health and support the All Secure Foundation. The appeal was familiar: a mountain demands planning, capable partners, the right equipment, and contingencies for changing conditions.

But it also offered something operations could not. In the outdoors, enhanced alertness did not have to mean danger. Sight, sound, smell, and movement could become grounding rather than threatening. The task remained demanding, but the purpose changed.

Fewer things. More possibility.

VanSant’s interest in Peak & Vale began with the name. Peaks and valleys reflected a life defined by extraordinary highs, significant loss, and the journey between them.

The product idea followed the same logic. A person traveling for work might move through an airport, a meeting, an unfamiliar city, and a mountain trail in the same week. Packing a different wardrobe for each environment creates weight and complexity. A coordinated system of versatile pieces creates options.

That is the practical appeal VanSant saw early: do more with less. Not minimalism as an aesthetic exercise, but preparation: carry what earns its place, and know it can respond when the context changes.

This also fits Peak & Vale’s approach to gear: natural-fiber clothes that work together as a system, whether you’re commuting, traveling, going about your day, or heading outdoors. Each piece is made to work in different situations, not just one.

Asked what he would carry everywhere, VanSant chose a hard shell. The reason was simple: wherever the journey leads, protection from the elements keeps movement possible.

Built for change

Throughout VanSant’s story, one idea keeps resurfacing: capability is not rigidity. Strong leaders do not have to control every decision. Strong people do not ignore every warning sign. Strong plans aren't followed blindly; they're built around people who can think clearly when reality changes.

The same is true of equipment. The best piece is not the one optimized for a perfect scenario. It is the one that remains useful across imperfect ones.

Transitions define life between the terminal, the city, and the trail. Conditions shift. Plans break. New information arrives. Preparation starts the journey; clarity, trust, and adaptability carry it forward.

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Adapted from a conversation with Chris VanSant for Peak & Vale. For the complete interview, read the full transcript.