The Outdoor Citizen. John Judge

      Step onto your favorite trail, kayak a winding river, or immerse yourself in the beauty of your local park, and you’ll feel it—a cool rush of calm, a gentle wave of connectivity, a sense of inclusion in the bounty that surrounds you. In the craziness of modern life, a whirlwind of daily responsibilities, time enjoying the outdoors can offer more than just a breath of fresh air; it can be calming, healing, and restorative. It can also cause a sense of awe, a feeling of being in the presence of something much greater than ourselves.

      I’ve had the good fortune of being able to enjoy the outdoors my whole life. I developed a love for the outdoors as a child. When our small house began to feel too small, and my parents began to lose patience, we’d hear the command, “Get out!” It was a call for us kids to go outside and play, to give my parents space in order to preserve their sanity. My dad was a former drill sergeant in the US Marine Corps, and during his time there he developed a perfect ominous pitch; when he bellowed at us to get out, we knew we had to follow orders. In retrospect I have a great appreciation for this. My parents wanted us out of their hair and inadvertently inspired in us a lifelong appreciation of the outdoors.

      Outside our home was a simple 100-year-old stone wall that separated our backyard from a small piece of conservation land that my siblings and I called “the woods.” At five years old, I began climbing over the wall, escaping into the bounty that lay past it. The woods had everything a kid needed for an adventure: downed trees, skunkweed, prickly bramble, and a babbling brook. At the time I didn’t know how lucky I was to have access to this space, but in retrospect I realize how perfect a place it was to explore, imagine, and learn. The time outside significantly bolstered our physical and emotional health. We had regular access to fresh air, exercise, and the mood-boosting benefits of sunshine. During this time, I realized how much fun I had working in and tending to nature, playing a small part in the stewardship of “the woods.” These childhood adventures instilled in me a fierce desire to help others also enjoy the natural world, and a drive to protect outdoor spaces for families the world over.

      Today I am the president and CEO of the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC), a position I’ve held since 2012. The AMC opened its doors in 1876 and is America’s oldest conservation and outdoor recreation organization, sharing the bounty of the outdoors with hundreds of thousands of members, guests, constituents, and supporters. Through the AMC’s work and the work of other venerable outdoor organizations, people from cities, suburbs, and rural areas have the chance to fall in love with nature. I’ve had the privilege of seeing firsthand how strong connections with the outdoors empower people and benefit our planet.

      My love of the outdoors has taken me all over the world, and I’ve seen a wealth of jaw-dropping natural beauty. I’ve taken sunrise hikes in Yosemite National Park; gone backcountry Nordic skiing in Colorado’s Collegiate Peaks (near Vail); snorkeled at dusk in the Maldives; paddled a canoe in Maine’s wilderness; Alpine skied in Chamonix, France; gone horseback riding in Colorado; cycled through New York City’s Central Park; and hiked hut to hut through the White Mountain National Forest in New Hampshire. Nature is so magnificent, so capable of changing our lives for the better, and yet, tragically, so few people enjoy it. Fewer and fewer people have a meaningful, fulfilling relationship with the outdoors.

      Today’s technology-laden world is radically different from the one our parents and grandparents grew up in, and, for some of us, even from the world of our own childhood. While my free time was spent playing outside, recreation today is more focused on being entertained indoors: by television, social media, video games, apps, smart speakers, and a seemingly endless array of new electronic gadgets. There may soon be augmented reality headsets in every household, and who knows what the must-have devices will be down the road? Technology has become the default tool for entertainment.

      As we step away from the outdoors and grapple with an increasingly pervasive virtual world, we not only lose touch with something that transforms our lives for the better and has always been tied to humankind’s survival, but we also put our planet at risk. As we’ve focused on the indoors instead of the outdoors, we’ve entered a new climate change epoch—and we’re now nearing a time when we will not be able to undo the damage being done to our planet.

      When I think about the world that today’s children are growing up in, and the one that future generations will be born into, my daughter—now three years old—is at the forefront of my mind. I often ask myself what her relationship with the outdoors will be in the space-age world of 2066, when she’s fifty. There is enormous positive potential in the discoveries of tomorrow—things like advances in personalized