Richard Dennis’s Bold Bet: Can Anyone Become a Great Trader?

Michael Covel:
I’ve spent years digging into the truth behind the Turtle story—not the myth, not the internet lore, but the gritty, human story of how a handful of people, trained under pressure, turned simple rules into market mastery. This wasn’t a story of gifted prodigies or algorithmic sorcery. It was about belief: the belief that discipline can outperform instinct, and that rules can transcend randomness.

In this series, I sit down with Richard Dennis—the mind behind the experiment—and the original Turtles themselves. We’re not just retelling old victories. We’re asking harder questions: Can this still work? Was it the system or the psychology? And in today’s market jungle, who would still survive?

 (Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event.)

Topic 1: What Makes a Trader Teachable?

Are great traders trained—or are they chosen?

Moderator: Michael Covel
Participants: Richard Dennis, Liz Cheval, Curtis Faith, Jerry Parker, Paul Rabar

Michael Covel:

Richard, you once said that great traders can be trained just like turtles—given the right structure. But not all your students made it. So let’s start with the big one:
What truly separates someone who can be taught to trade successfully from someone who can’t?

Curtis Faith:
I was the youngest in the group—just 19. But I took the rules seriously. For me, the real separator wasn’t intelligence—it was emotional resilience. Some people needed to be right. I just wanted to follow the system. If you couldn’t lose ten times in a row and keep trading mechanically, you didn’t last.

Paul Rabar:
There’s a humility required—an acceptance that you’re not in control of the outcome, just your process. I saw people smarter than me fail because they couldn’t surrender their ego. You don’t need to be creative. You need to be consistent.

Liz Cheval:
It’s not about knowing markets. It’s about knowing yourself. I had to overcome my own desire to tweak and second-guess. The people who succeeded were the ones who made the system theirs—not by changing it, but by internalizing it.

Jerry Parker:
It came down to belief. I never once doubted that the rules worked. Some did. And when markets got choppy or painful, that doubt made them hesitate. You need teachability, yes—but more than that, you need conviction in what you’ve been taught.

Richard Dennis:
We underestimated how rare true teachability is. I thought if you gave people a clear path, they’d follow it. But many brought hidden baggage—ego, fear, the need to predict. The teachable ones didn’t just absorb the rules. They trusted them more than they trusted themselves.

Michael Covel:

That’s powerful. But let’s go deeper. What internal resistance did you personally have to overcome in order to be truly teachable—and how did you deal with it?

Liz Cheval:
I had to stop trying to optimize everything. I wanted to outperform the others. That mindset created tension with the system. Once I let go of needing to be the best and just focused on being consistent, I found my rhythm.

Richard Dennis:
From the teacher’s side, I resisted acknowledging that not everyone could—or should—be taught. That was hard. I had to learn the difference between giving people tools and expecting them to use them. Some just couldn’t let go of control.

Curtis Faith:
I had to quiet my ambition. I came in thinking, “I’m going to be the top Turtle.” That energy got me into trouble at times. Once I saw that discipline—not speed or cleverness—was the edge, I became a better student.

Jerry Parker:
My resistance was emotional. I hated losing. Still do. But I had to learn to respect small losses as part of the process. I repeated to myself: “The next trade has no memory.” That became my mental reset switch.

Paul Rabar:
I had to confront the part of me that wanted shortcuts. There were times I thought, “I’ll skip this trade—it doesn’t feel right.” Every time I did that, I paid the price. Eventually I realized: the system knew better than I did.

Michael Covel:

Last question: Let’s say you’re sitting across from someone right now who says, “I want to learn to trade.” How would you know if they’re truly teachable—or just chasing results?

Jerry Parker:
I’d ask them how they handle boredom. Because trend following is boring most of the time. If they want action, it’s over before it starts. If they can fall in love with process, they’ve got a chance.

Curtis Faith:
I’d ask them what they’d do after five straight losing trades. If they say, “I’d keep executing,” they’re worth teaching. If they say, “I’d re-evaluate,” I know they’ll tinker themselves out of success.

Paul Rabar:
I look for how they take feedback. Do they defend themselves—or listen? Teachability is about emotional flexibility. If they can’t hear “You’re wrong—do it this way,” they’re not ready.

Liz Cheval:
I’d watch how they respond to rules. Do they light up—or push back? If they try to reword every principle or “personalize” it too soon, they’re not teachable yet. If they nod and apply—then ask deeper questions—I’m interested.

Richard Dennis:
I’d give them a task: “Take this system, follow it blindly for 30 days—no exceptions.” Most people can’t. They’ll skip a signal, rationalize a change, or add an extra filter. But the ones who don’t? Those are the turtles I would’ve picked again.

Michael Covel (final reflection):
The great paradox of trading is this: You don’t need to be extraordinary—you need to be trainable. What Richard proved is that with the right structure, ordinary people can achieve extraordinary results. But only if they can let go of the need to be right—and embrace the discipline to do what works, even when it hurts.

Topic 2: When to Obey the Rules—and When to Evolve

Is discipline about strict obedience—or strategic adaptation?

Moderator: Michael Covel
Participants: Richard Dennis, Jerry Parker, Liz Cheval, Tom Shanks, Mike Carr

Michael Covel:

The Turtle system was strict. Follow the rules, no exceptions. But markets evolve. Volatility changes. Technology shifts.
So here’s the question:
Did there come a time when you felt the rules needed to evolve—and how did you respond to that tension between discipline and adaptation?

Mike Carr:
Absolutely. I remember the 1990s—volatility dropped, trends got shorter. I tried following the rules verbatim and it stopped working. I didn’t ditch the philosophy, but I adapted the timeframe. 55-day breakouts became 25. Still trend following—but evolved.

Liz Cheval:
There was tension, yes. The core of the system was sound, but I felt we needed more context—volatility regimes, market environments. I didn’t abandon the rules, but I layered them. To me, evolution meant building on the rules, not breaking them.

Jerry Parker:
I stayed as close to the original rules as I could for years. But yes, there came a time when I softened the edges. I added filters for trend strength and volatility expansion. The market changed, and I had to respect that without corrupting the integrity of the system.

Tom Shanks:
I was probably one of the most conservative Turtles. I didn’t want to change anything. But over time I saw others succeed by adapting. My tension wasn’t intellectual—it was emotional. I had to get over the guilt of evolving the system. That was a real process for me.

Richard Dennis:
I always believed the system could be updated—but not in real time. You evolve between trades, not during them. The traders who succeeded were the ones who made changes deliberately, not reactively. That distinction is everything.

Michael Covel:

Some of you eventually diverged in major ways—and some stuck almost religiously to the blueprint. Where is the line between healthy evolution and self-sabotage? How do you know if you're adapting or just diluting the edge?

Tom Shanks:
The line is drawn by data. I didn’t trust my feelings—I trusted backtests. If an adjustment improved risk-adjusted returns over 10+ years of data, I considered it. If it was based on “I don’t like this setup,” I dismissed it.

Jerry Parker:
For me, the test was: “Am I still uncomfortable?” If my rules made me nervous when trades triggered, I knew I hadn’t corrupted the system. Once trading starts feeling safe or convenient, you’ve probably watered down the edge.

Liz Cheval:
I always asked: “Is this change about outcomes—or emotions?” If I wanted to avoid drawdowns, I knew I was off track. If I wanted to adapt to market structure, I explored. Evolution is about deepening alignment, not escaping discomfort.

Mike Carr:
I crossed that line once—I started filtering too much, over-optimizing. Suddenly I was taking five trades a year and missing huge trends. That was a wake-up call. I stripped it back. Simplicity with small adaptations—that’s the balance.

Richard Dennis:
Look at results over decades. If you change the system and it gets more complex, but your drawdowns don’t improve and your returns shrink—you’ve diluted it. Most traders tinker their edge away trying to be smarter than the rules.

Michael Covel:

Last question—and this one’s personal. If you could go back, would you have evolved the system sooner? Or stuck to it longer before changing? What did time teach you about timing evolution itself?

Liz Cheval:
I wish I had evolved sooner—but with more clarity. At first, I resisted change out of loyalty. Then I changed too much out of frustration. It took me years to learn that evolution isn’t faster—it’s deeper. Time taught me to ask better questions, not chase better results.

Mike Carr:
I would’ve evolved earlier. I stayed too long in the original framework, thinking loyalty was virtue. But the market isn’t sentimental. It rewards precision. If I had honored the spirit of the system instead of the letter, I’d have transitioned more gracefully.

Tom Shanks:
Honestly, I wouldn’t change much. My cautious nature kept me from blowing up. Sure, I left money on the table—but I slept at night. Evolution was always going to be slow for me, and I’m okay with that.

Jerry Parker:
I would’ve started integrating adaptive logic earlier. Not radical changes—just acknowledging when a market was structurally different. I eventually made peace with the idea that you can stay loyal to a philosophy while updating its tools.

Richard Dennis:
I’d have prepared you all better for the emotional fallout of sticking to a system in a changing world. I gave you great rules—but I didn’t fully anticipate how hard it would be to trust them once they stopped working for a while. That’s where the evolution needs to begin—not with the market, but with the trader.

Michael Covel (final reflection):
The Turtles proved that rules can beat instinct. But they also revealed that rules must breathe—or they break. Evolution isn’t about abandoning structure. It’s about refining it with care, data, and humility. In the end, the traders who lasted weren’t just the ones who obeyed the rules.
They were the ones who respected the difference between reaction and refinement.

Topic 3: Ego, Failure, and the Identity of a Trader

When your system wins—or loses—what happens to your sense of self?

Moderator: Michael Covel
Participants: Richard Dennis, Curtis Faith, Liz Cheval, Jerry Parker, Paul Rabar

Michael Covel:

Let’s be honest—success can be as dangerous as failure. A string of wins can feed your ego. A streak of losses can crush your confidence. So let me ask this plainly:
When in your trading journey did ego help you—and when did it hurt you?

Curtis Faith:
Ego helped me take the job in the first place. I was 19. I thought I could learn this faster than anyone. And for a while, that belief worked. But later, ego made me override entries. I thought I could time the market better than the system. It cost me. That was my lesson: ego’s great for ambition—but terrible for execution.

Liz Cheval:
For me, ego crept in quietly. After a few good years, I started thinking I could improve the system—maybe make it “smarter.” But those tweaks were really about feeling clever, not making the system better. My ego wanted recognition more than returns. That misalignment almost broke me.

Jerry Parker:
Ego didn’t show up for me until I became successful. That’s when I started comparing my returns to other traders, including other Turtles. It became a distraction. The need to be the best Turtle clouded the clarity that had gotten me there in the first place.

Paul Rabar:
Ego shows up when you’re afraid. Not when you’re confident. It’s a defense mechanism. When a trade starts to go against you, your ego says, “No, I’m still right.” That’s when you break the rules. The discipline to obey the system comes from humility, not pride.

Richard Dennis:
Ego was something I had to fight in myself as a teacher. I wanted the experiment to work so badly that I sometimes overlooked signs that a student was struggling. I assumed they’d come around. That was my ego—believing my system could conquer human nature automatically.

Michael Covel:

That’s deeply honest. Now, what about identity?
How did being a Turtle—or a system trader—change your sense of who you were? Did the system ever feel like it was shaping you into someone you didn’t recognize?

Jerry Parker:
At first, being a Turtle felt like being part of a secret society. But over time, I realized I was building my entire identity around the idea of being “a rules-based trader.” That sounds noble—but it became a trap. I resisted growth because I didn’t want to betray that identity. Ironically, the system made me rigid where I needed to be flexible.

Curtis Faith:
Trading stripped away the image I had of myself. I saw how easily I could become reactive, greedy, self-sabotaging. The system didn’t just trade markets—it reflected me. That was hard. But also freeing. Once I saw my flaws clearly, I could work on them.

Paul Rabar:
Being a Turtle gave me a foundation—but it didn’t define me. I never saw the system as my identity. I saw it as a tool. That distance helped. I could say, “The system isn’t working well right now,” without thinking, “I’m failing as a trader.”

Liz Cheval:
As one of the only women in the group, I felt pressure to represent. I wanted to prove that I could master the system, stay stoic, be mechanical. But there were moments I wanted to scream or cry—moments of deep doubt. The system made me face parts of myself I hadn’t confronted before. It was intense. But it grew me.

Richard Dennis:
When I created the Turtle program, I thought we were just teaching rules. But I saw it shaping people—sometimes in beautiful ways, sometimes in painful ones. What I learned is that trading isn’t just a skill. It’s an emotional transformation. It rewires your view of failure, success, and even identity itself.

Michael Covel:

Final question: How did you recover from your worst ego-driven moment—and what did it teach you about yourself?

Paul Rabar:
My worst moment came when I skipped a short trade in the Swiss franc. I just “felt” it wasn’t the right time. That feeling cost me hundreds of thousands. After that, I wrote on my wall: Your opinion is irrelevant. It became my mantra. That mistake made me strict again.

Liz Cheval:
I once let a winning position run past the exit signal. I thought I was capturing more trend. Instead, I gave back half the gains. It wasn’t greed—it was wanting to be “right longer.” I had to forgive myself for that. Self-compassion became part of my recovery toolkit.

Richard Dennis:
My biggest ego moment? Believing I could systematize human behavior perfectly. The Turtles reminded me that structure is just scaffolding. The real architecture is how people use it. I’ve become more humble about what rules can—and can’t—do.

Curtis Faith:
I once added my own filters to avoid “noisy” trades. It worked for a while—then I missed one of the biggest commodity moves of the year. I felt like an idiot. That moment crushed my confidence, but also rebooted it. It reminded me: the edge was in the method, not my tweaks.

Jerry Parker:
Mine was subtle. I started believing I had outgrown the system. I tried hybrid models—discretion mixed with rules. The results weren’t disastrous—but they weren’t consistent either. Eventually, I circled back to simplicity. I realized: being systematic isn’t about being basic. It’s about being uncompromisingly honest with yourself.

Michael Covel (final reflection):
Ego builds illusions. Discipline tears them down.
The Turtle story isn’t just about risk and return—it’s about identity. What happens when we give up control and trust something bigger than our instincts? For the Turtles, the rules didn’t just protect their capital—they exposed who they really were.
And that’s the kind of transformation no chart can measure.

Topic 4: What Richard Got Wrong—and What the Turtles Misunderstood

Even a perfect system has blind spots. So do its students.

Moderator: Michael Covel
Participants: Richard Dennis, Jerry Parker, Liz Cheval, Tom Shanks, Howard Seidler

Michael Covel:

Richard, your vision birthed one of the most famous trading experiments in history. But every bold idea leaves something behind. So let’s start with this:
What—if anything—do you think you got wrong about the Turtle experiment?

Richard Dennis:
I underestimated emotion. I believed that if I gave people a rational system, they’d follow it. But systems don’t trade themselves—people do. The biggest variable wasn’t volatility or entry signals—it was fear, greed, hesitation. I didn’t fully prepare them for how human this mechanical process would feel.

Tom Shanks:
Looking back, I think Richard was too optimistic about how quickly we’d internalize the discipline. The rules worked. But applying them during a drawdown or after a streak of losses? That was war. I wish we’d spent more time on mental training—not just charts and math.

Liz Cheval:
I think the process assumed we were all blank slates. But we each brought our own psychology, and the system triggered those patterns. I don’t think Richard got it “wrong,” but I think we needed more space to individualize without breaking structure. That balance was missing.

Howard Seidler:
We were given a system—but not always the context for why it worked. That left some of us rigid, others confused. I’d have benefited from more philosophy behind the strategy. Without that, it sometimes felt like religion: obey, don’t ask. And that didn’t hold in tough markets.

Jerry Parker:
If anything, I think Richard gave us too much credit too early. We made money fast, and that masked our weaknesses. We weren’t ready for change. When the markets shifted and the rules didn’t “work” the same way, many of us didn’t have the resilience to stay calm and objective.

Michael Covel:

Now let’s flip it. What did the Turtles themselves misunderstand about Richard—or about the system he gave you? What key principle do you think most of the group failed to fully grasp at the time?

Howard Seidler:
I think we thought we were being taught “the secret formula.” But it wasn’t magic—it was structure. Some of us didn’t realize the real value wasn’t in the entry signals—it was in the consistency and risk management. The system was simple by design. But we wanted complexity to feel smart.

Liz Cheval:
We misunderstood Richard’s detachment. Some of us thought he didn’t care. But looking back, I see he was deliberately letting us wrestle with the rules alone. That was the real training. Still, many of us wished for more feedback during the struggle. Silence left room for doubt.

Tom Shanks:
Some of us confused “mechanical” with “emotionless.” We believed we had to become robots to succeed. That actually made things worse. The truth is, emotions never go away—you just have to learn to trade alongside them. I misunderstood how emotional this profession would stay.

Jerry Parker:
We thought following rules meant suppressing thought. But Richard’s brilliance was in how he designed the rules to free up our minds, not shut them down. It took me years to realize: a good system doesn’t control you—it liberates you from your impulses.

Richard Dennis:
They misunderstood that the system was never meant to be holy writ. I wanted them to understand the logic behind it, then refine it thoughtfully over time. Some clung to it dogmatically, others discarded it too quickly. Both missed the deeper point: the rules are scaffolding—you still have to build the house.

Michael Covel:

So, if you could re-run the experiment today with what you now know, what would you do differently—not in the system, but in how you prepared the traders for what was coming?

Liz Cheval:
I’d include psychological conditioning from day one. Journaling. Meditation. Reflection exercises. Trading is 80% emotional regulation. We needed tools to understand how the rules would collide with our own baggage.

Tom Shanks:
I’d build in more conversation—weekly debriefs, group check-ins. Silence created isolation. It made us think we were the only ones struggling. That kind of loneliness is dangerous when discipline is the goal.

Jerry Parker:
I’d slow it down. Fewer trades, more practice rounds. More “dry runs” with fake capital. Let people fail in a safe environment. We were thrown into the deep end with real money, and that amplified everything—fear, doubt, stress.

Howard Seidler:
I’d spend more time teaching the philosophy of trend following. Not just the mechanics. When you understand why something works over the long run, you’re less likely to abandon it in the short run.

Richard Dennis:
I’d teach detachment as a virtue. Not coldness, but emotional separation. The traders who made it weren’t the ones who were smartest—they were the ones who could take a punch and still follow the rules. I wish I had emphasized that more clearly from the start.

Michael Covel (final reflection):
What Richard gave the Turtles wasn’t just a system—it was a mirror. The rules revealed who was really ready to trade, not just in the markets—but against themselves. And what they all learned—some early, some too late—was that no matter how elegant the system, it’s the person who must be built to survive.

The market’s changed. But has human behavior?

Moderator: Michael Covel
Participants: Richard Dennis, Curtis Faith, Jerry Parker, Howard Seidler, Liz Cheval

Michael Covel:

Let’s ask the question that’s been debated ever since you walked away from the screens:
Can the Turtle Trading system—breakouts, ATRs, position sizing—still succeed in today’s fast, AI-driven markets?

Richard Dennis:
The core still works because human psychology hasn’t evolved. People panic, they chase, they overreact. The market reflects that. What’s changed is the speed and noise. You have to adjust timeframes, maybe smooth your entries. But the principle? Ride trends, cut losses, let winners run—that’s eternal.

Curtis Faith:
The rules were never the real edge. The discipline was. Trend following has been crowded, yes, but very few people stick to it. Most traders want excitement, not consistency. That alone keeps the edge alive. The system works because people don’t.

Liz Cheval:
I agree. I traded systematic breakouts in institutional environments long after the Turtles. What changed was volatility, not the validity. The system isn’t obsolete—it just needs smarter execution: dynamic stops, adaptive position sizing, maybe multiple timeframes. But the logic of trend following? Still bulletproof.

Howard Seidler:
It depends on your definition of “work.” If you expect 50% annual returns like in the '80s, forget it. But if you follow the system patiently, with risk awareness and humility, you can still outperform. Most people today don’t have the stomach for long drawdowns. The edge belongs to the emotionally resilient.

Jerry Parker:
We’ve evolved the rules. I still use a breakout system—but with more filters. Longer-term trends, volatility overlays, risk budgets. We never abandoned the core—we refined it. Systematic trading is alive and well… just not in its 1983 costume.

Michael Covel:

Some say the edges have been arbitraged away. Others say the noise has grown too loud for trend-following to thrive.
What would you say to someone who claims the Turtle System is too “slow” for modern markets?

Curtis Faith:
I’d ask them: “What’s your time horizon?” If you’re looking for quick wins, the Turtle system is too slow. It’s not designed for dopamine traders. It’s designed to catch the middle of big moves—moves that still happen all the time. Tesla. Gold. Bitcoin. The system didn’t miss those.

Liz Cheval:
Exactly. The system isn’t too slow—it’s deliberate. And in a world of algorithmic overreaction, sometimes slower is safer. You avoid the noise. You wait for confirmation. And when the trend comes, you ride it with confidence while others second-guess.

Howard Seidler:
The Turtle System requires you to be okay with being wrong often, but right big. That hasn’t changed. What’s changed is that modern traders want to be right every day. That’s not trend following—it’s control addiction. And it kills performance.

Jerry Parker:
People say the system is outdated because it’s not optimized for 2-second trades. But that was never the point. The Turtle System was built on timeless truths: markets trend, people react, and systems provide discipline. None of that is obsolete. If anything, it’s more relevant today.

Richard Dennis:
Speed doesn’t mean insight. The game is faster, yes. But if anything, that helps the trend follower. The faster the crowd reacts emotionally, the more exaggerated the trend becomes. You just need to hold your ground. The Turtles who did? They still trade. The rest? They still chase.

Michael Covel:

Final question.
If you were to design a modern version of the Turtle experiment today—what would you change, if anything?

Liz Cheval:
I’d include AI tools for data visualization, but the rules would stay simple. The training would focus more on emotional control than spreadsheets. Same system, better psyche.

Howard Seidler:
I’d spend more time helping people find their natural timeframe. Not everyone’s wired for daily breakouts. Some need weekly trends. Others need intraday models. The principles are flexible—humans aren’t. Match the system to the soul.

Jerry Parker:
I’d bring in behavioral coaches. Seriously. The best traders I know don’t need more information—they need less emotional sabotage. The rules are just the beginning. The real experiment is the mind.

Curtis Faith:
I’d have students run their strategies in simulation for a full year before touching real capital. We learned in the fire. Today’s world is too complex and public for that. The new Turtles need a longer runway—and maybe less Twitter.

Richard Dennis:
I’d still bet that people can be taught. But I’d train them slower. Longer. With more accountability. The core idea hasn’t changed: you don’t need to predict the market—you need to survive long enough for it to reveal itself. Teach that, and you’ll build traders who last.

Michael Covel (final reflection):
The Turtle System wasn’t just a set of breakout rules—it was a philosophy of patience, discipline, and letting the market do the talking. Markets move. Traders panic. Trends persist. And as long as human nature doesn’t change, the spirit of the Turtle experiment may be the last truly timeless edge.

Final Thoughts

Michael Covel:
The Turtle system was never magic. It was math and mindset. And what it revealed is that even in chaos, there are patterns. There’s a way to survive. To thrive. But only if you’re willing to surrender ego and embrace the discipline of rules.

So ask yourself: In a world obsessed with prediction, are you brave enough to simply follow trends? To trust a system over your gut? The Turtles did. And some of them still do.

That’s the real legacy: You don’t need to outsmart the market. You need to outlast it.

Short Bios:

Michael Covel is a bestselling author and trading educator whose books, including The Complete TurtleTrader and Trend Following, have introduced millions to mechanical trading systems. He hosts a top-ranked podcast and is known for his deep interviews with the world’s most successful traders.

Richard Dennis is a legendary commodities trader who turned $1,600 into over $200 million. Known as the “Prince of the Pit,” he designed the Turtle experiment to prove that trading success could be taught through rules, not instinct. His philosophy still influences systematic traders worldwide.

Jerry Parker is the founder of Chesapeake Capital and one of the most successful Turtles. Known for his disciplined trend-following strategies, he has managed billions of dollars and continues to apply the Turtle principles with modern adaptations.

Liz Cheval (1963–2013) was a pioneering Turtle and hedge fund manager. As one of the few women in the program, she stood out for her analytical rigor and passionate belief in systematic trading. She was also an advocate for women in finance.

Curtis Faith was the youngest of the original Turtles, selected at age 19. He later authored Way of the Turtle, revealing insider lessons from the experiment. Known for his curiosity and confidence, he brought a bold voice to the trading world.

Howard Seidler went on to found Saxon Investment Corporation. He managed hundreds of millions using trend-following systems and is respected for his consistent discipline and methodical approach to risk.

Tom Shanks became a private trader and quiet practitioner of the Turtle philosophy. Known for his caution and rule adherence, he represents the thoughtful, reserved side of the Turtle legacy.

Paul Rabar built a successful trading career following his time as a Turtle. He focused on staying emotionally centered and consistently applying the system's principles while exploring its long-term adaptability.

Mike Carr is a lesser-known but important voice in the Turtle legacy, representing those who continued evolving the system beyond its original scope. He focused on adapting breakout systems to shifting volatility environments in the decades that followed.