The four-day solo trek through the Sierra Nevada's Carson-Iceberg Wilderness was exactly what I had hoped for. It was late in the season, and I had the trail to myself as I followed the roller-coaster spine of the mountains. The valley at the headwaters of the Carson River where I camped for a couple of nights was postcard perfect—granite slopes zigzagged with ponderosa pine, signs of bears everywhere in the willow mazes, a family of ducks in the water.  

But there was something wrong with the picture. Big fires had been burning for days to the southwest, and the high-country views were choked with haze. Even on a woodsy getaway, I couldn't escape the hard truth about global climate change: With our constant burning of fossil fuels, we've set the world on fire.

Two days after I returned from the mountains, the Sierra Club offered me the editorship of Sierra magazine. As an outdoorsman, longtime environmental journalist, and erstwhile organic farmer, I couldn't have been happier. What an opportunity—to combine my passion for wild places with my love of writing. And what a responsibility—to steward the traditions of this century-old publication.

As I settle into my new role here, I keep thinking about that trip to the Sierra, which seems emblematic of the challenges facing the environmental movement today. We want to celebrate and enjoy the big, open spaces we love. At the same time, we have to be always on guard to protect those places.  

You can guarantee that Sierra will continue to do both. When there's an alarm to sound, we'll let out a yell. When we find good news, we'll rush to share it with you. Above all, we'll spark conversations to help create a sharper, smarter environmental movement. I look forward to many years of talking together—in these pages or, better yet, on the trail.

This article appeared as "At the Trailhead" in the January/February 2016 print edition of Sierra.