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Juneau’s Peterson Lake trail is known for being a bit wet. It winds through muskeg to a lake, where a U.S. Forest Service cabin hosts overnight visitors. 

“The trail over time has just gotten soggier and soggier,” Trail Mix, Inc. Director Meghan Tabacek said. 

Trail Mix is Juneau’s trail maintenance nonprofit. While making her way down the part of the trail that her crews have been tending to, Tabacek pointed to some of the changes they’ve made. 

“The great thing about this job is there’s always no shortage of trails that need love,” she said.

The trail can be slow going on a rainy day — or most days in Juneau — with deep pools of rain and mud in between tree roots. There are sections of wood planks that have eroded and rotted in the 10 years since they were installed. Trail Mix has been replacing those with gravel. 

Peterson Lake Trail is one of many that Trail Mix’s trail crews have spent countless hours improving for Juneau residents. Now, the work may be on pause due to federal funding and job cuts. 

But Juneau’s trail maintenance nonprofit wants to hire fired U.S. Forest Service staff to make a new trail crew — if it can raise enough money to pay them.

The plan would allow skilled trail workers to continue their work this summer, after half of the Forest Service trail crews were fired last month by the Trump administration.

In the past, the organization partnered with Forest Service trail crews and had two of its own crews funded by the federal government dedicated to working on Tongass National Forest trails. 

In the recent federal firings, Juneau’s Forest Service crews were halved. And Trail Mix isn’t planning on being reimbursed for its work on Forest Service trails. 

Tabacek wants to keep those fired employees’ trail work skills in Juneau, and she said Trail Mix can be a landing place for those who lost their jobs. 

Still, she said, those jobs should be reinstated. 

“This is not an ideal situation for us, for anyone,” she said. “We understand and we know that the best place for federal workers is to continue being with the Forest Service.” 

Tabacek said, as she understands it, the Forest Service is planning to keep all remaining trail crews on cabin maintenance, leaving Trail Mix to maintain Juneau’s 250 miles of trail.  

But the organization’s remaining funding sources are funding city trails, not national forest ones. 

So Trail Mix is campaigning to fundraise $170,000 dollars — enough to hire five trail crew staff for the season. As of Thursday, community members have donated just under $12,000. Tabacek said she knows they have a long way to go, but she’s optimistic.

Nearly 90% of Juneau residents use the trails throughout the year, according to a 2016 City and Borough of Juneau survey. 

Juneau’s nine Forest Service cabins also see heavy use. After last month’s Forest Service firings, Quinton Woolman-Morgan’s crew is down to one person.

“And you can’t do it by yourself,” he said. “The projects are just far too big.”

He maintained Juneau’s cabins for three seasons. He was fired last month, in a wave that suddenly left dozens of Juneau-based federal workers without a job. 

Woolman-Morgan said the job involves a lot of pumping out the bathrooms, among other maintenance.

“If a bunk bed is not fixed, or a staircase isn’t fixed, it’s kind of an unsafe thing,” Woolman-Morgan said. “And we’re always out there replacing windows, painting. Everything gets really weathered.”

The Forest Service hasn’t released a plan for how the work that was done by fired staff will be maintained. 

Out on the Christopher Trail near Gold Creek, Gooshdeihéen Ricardo Worl surveys the work he and his Trail Mix crew did last summer. He said the Tongass is an especially challenging place to build trails. 

“Southeast Alaska is both a beautiful and a really unforgiving and challenging place to build and maintain trail,” he said.

He’s an avid trail user in Juneau who’s worked on trails with Trail Mix for the past two summers.

But Worl said that hard work isn’t always noticeable to the people who regularly use the trails. 

“You know it’s done right when people don’t notice it,” he said. “When you can go about your daily life like, ‘Oh, let’s go into a cabin this weekend,’ and not have to second guess it.”

Worl grew up in Juneau — hiking, biking and skiing local trails  — and he said they are an integral part of Juneau’s community and culture. 

And trail work, he said, is essential. He hopes residents will step up to support it.

Juneau’s trail maintenance nonprofit won’t be maintaining Forest Service trails this season, unless it can crowd-source funding for a new trail crew. 

That includes maintenance on access trails to heavily-used cabins at Peterson Lake, Dan Moller and Windfall Lake. 

Leaders of Trail Mix, Inc. made the decision to reallocate their Forest Service crews to other work, because they say they may lose the federal funding that pays them.

Half of the organization’s summer trail crews are funded by Forest Service grants. With instability at the federal level, Executive Director Meghan Tabacek said she doesn’t want to risk not being able to pay those workers. 

“I don’t ever want to be in a situation where we can’t pay our employees,” she said. “That’s just not how we do business here.”

Trail Mix usually gets about $420,000 annually in federal funding. Usually, the Forest Service pays Trail Mix during or after the season.

Tabacek says the funding comes from two sources: the Great American Outdoors Act, a 2020 act that funds improvements to recreation areas on federal land, and Alaska Forest Service fees from the Mendenhall Glacier Visitor Center and cabin use that get deposited back into trail work.

The city has long partnered with Trail Mix for trail upkeep. George Schaaf leads the City and Borough of Juneau’s Parks and Recreation department and said they are one of Juneau’s greatest assets. 

“The trails make Juneau, Juneau,” he said. “It’s a huge reason I think a lot of us chose to come here, chose to stay and a lot of why people who grew up here also stay or come back.”

And, he said, the federal funding cuts could mean Juneau has to spend a lot more money in the future to maintain certain trails.

“If you keep up on the periodic maintenance, your cost over the lifetime is going to be a lot lower,” he said. “But if you don’t maintain what you have, you’re going to end up spending a lot of money all at once to try to get it back.”

Trail Mix’s Tabacek said the federal funding agreements haven’t been canceled yet. But she fears they could be because federal funding across the U.S. has been slashed, leaving many nonprofits without previously-guaranteed money to operate.  

“We’re just incredibly nervous to have the federal government as a business partner right now,” Tabacek said. “Agreements and grants that people thought were set in stone are being lost, left and right.”

Trail Mix has already hired its crews. Tabacek said Trail Mix now has to find other ways to pay for about half of its staff, and hopes to secure funding from the city. But she said those funding sources would pay only for work on city trails, not Forest Service trails.

That’s why the nonprofit is raising funds to hire a new crew made up of fired Forest Service staff. That crew could be tasked with maintaining Forest Service trails – roughly 40% of Juneau’s trails, she said. 

“It’s the people who use trails that are going to feel this, you know,” Tabacek said. “And obviously our staff are feeling it, and the staff of the Juneau Ranger District are feeling it as well. But this really has eliminated a lot of ways we work on Forest Service trails and to maintain these trails that we love.”

The fundraiser’s goal is $170,000, and Tabacek said the organization has about a month to raise that amount before trail work begins. And she said this year is a good year to volunteer. 

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond.

Frank Henry Kaash Katasse is an Indigenous actor and playwright who incorporates Lingít language into plays performed on Juneau’s stages and airwaves. Now, he’s directing a play written by another Indigenous playwright, about white people putting on a Thanksgiving play. 

He says the play is full of humor and irony, but at its core, it gets at the question of who creates theater and who is in the audience watching. 

“The Thanksgiving Play” opens on Friday, with a pay-as-you-can preview on Wednesday. 

Listen:

Frank Henry Kaash Katasse: Kaash áyá ax̱ saayí. Dleit Ḵaa x̱’éináx̱ Frank Henry Kaash Katasse. Hi, I’m Frank Katasse. Frank Henry Kaash Katasse. I’m directing the play, “The Thanksgiving Play” at Perseverance Theater. 

It’s written by Larissa FastHorse. This play, this “Thanksgiving Play,” has been kind of like a darling across the country. It was, you know, it’s a very top produced play across the country, had a Broadway run within the last few years. 

And it’s funny. It’s a really, really funny play. The play is about, basically, it’s about four white people trying to put on a traditional Thanksgiving play without any Native people in it, and the struggles of trying not to offend anybody. And it’s all very farcical and it’s really, like, line-by-line, it’s a really, really funny play. 

There is a certain amount of irony within this play, especially that it’s, you know, it’s a written by a Native person about white people trying to do a Native play without any Native people. But, and that can be — that’s a tricky thing to navigate. And one great thing about Perseverance is that, you know, bringing in a supporting cast of Indigenous perspectives and BIPOC perspectives and so not just me, you know, helming as the director, but you know, we have cultural consultants that are going to come in.

And Perseverance Theater spends a great amount of resources and energy educating and discussing whose land that we’re on and how It’s important to tell these stories in Lingít Aaní, so this play, you know, it seems like to make fun and poke at some of those ideas, but Perseverance Theatre, I think, takes it very seriously. 

And I think it helps having, you know, a Native director like to understand some of the subtleties within the comedy. I’m like, “Did they understand this joke, like when they did this in Plano, Texas, or whatever, by a completely white cast and production team? Did they understand some of these jokes?”

These are really, really funny and, and we’ve got to try to highlight some of that Indigenous humor that’s built into the script. And there’s a certain amount of irony there. I think it is trying to hold up a mirror to society, and I think it’s my job to make sure it does that thing. 

I think Juneau will like it. I explain it to people just like I explained it here. It’s four white people trying to put on a Thanksgiving play, and they’re like, “that’s a funny premise.” And you’re like, “yeah, it is.” And they’re trying not to offend anybody. And of course, it’s always offensive. 

I think people are going to be surprised on how funny this play is.

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond.

A team of researchers in Alaska have banded together to investigate a famous Alaska shipwreck. The Star of Bengal sank off the coast of Prince of Wales Island in 1908, taking more than 100 lives with it. The shipwreck highlighted stark racial inequality in Alaska at the time since most of those who died were Asian cannery workers. 

Members of a 2022 expedition to the site of the wreck are going back in May. In this episode of Tongass Voices, team members Gig Decker and Jenya Anichtchenko share what they hope to uncover.

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

Gig Decker: I’m Gig Decker, 50 year old — I mean, 50 year commercial fisherman from Wrangell, Alaska. And I was a commercial harvest diver for 38 years. And I became interested in shipwrecks 30 years ago, mainly because you run into a lot of that sort of thing when you’re commercial harvest diving. And I became interested in the Star of Bengal because I see it as a really important aspect of the fishing and processing industry. And I’ve always been really interested in seeing the story of the Bengal lifted to a point to where I think it deserves in the history of Alaska and coastal communities.

Jenya Anichtchenko : My name is Jenya Anichtchenko. I am a maritime archeologist. I came to Alaska in 2004 for the first time chasing a Russian shipwreck, and ever since I stayed in the state. I’ve done a lot of things professionally, but shipwrecks and maritime archeology remain my passion. I am originally from St Petersburg, Russia, and I am now proud to say I’m an Alaskan, for the last 20 years.

It’s kind of a mystery, maybe not so much, but in details it is. We know that out of 36 crew members of the Star of Bengal, about 17 died. And we know that of 106 cannery workers of Chinese, Filipino, Japanese origin, only 10 survived. It’s a huge racial disproportion of lives lost. And we’re hoping to be able to find out what really happened. 

Gig Decker: A lot of people don’t realize the tremendous involvement that Asian people have had in the development of the fishing and processing industry in the Northwest, and particularly in Alaska. They were the predominant labor force, and there’s a fairly clear history of mistreatment of Asians, particularly of the Chinese — taking advantage of them, cheating them and not giving them the health care and that sort of a thing they need. 

So there’s been a long history of this, from Sacramento all the way up to the West Coast through to Alaska, not just in processing and fishing, but in timber and mining and road building.

And I’ve always felt that the Star of Bengal was a marker for this whole thing. I think that what happened that night reflects the way that the Chinese and Asians were treated in the industry, and I think it’s an important hallmark for the history of Alaska that should stand out a lot more.

Jenya Anichtchenko: I’ve been engaged in several archeological maritime shipwreck studies, and most of the time they originate from academia. This one, at least to me, came as a community wish, a community desire. It’s very important for me to know that this is a community project, and we’re trying to run it as such. 

Another thing I want to mention is it’s an immigrant story for me, and it definitely pulls on my immigrant heart. The immigrant population is vulnerable. Chinese and other Asian workers on the Star of Bengal, they were not welcome to this country at all. They had to work really hard, take jobs that nobody else would take, work for virtually nothing and risk their lives to eventually feel at home in this country. And it’s a really important aspect for me, and I think it’s an important thing for all of us to remember, especially today, what immigrant story in this country really is like. 

Gig Decker: It is really important because the record needs to be set straight about what happened that night. And anything that we can bring to light out there, I think it’s going to be really important.

Peyton Lott patiently sat on a mat in the Dzántik’i Héeni Middle School’s gym on Saturday morning, waiting for her next competitor in the Inuit stick pull event.

“I love doing these because it shows what strength [was] within the people who did them,” she said. 

The game involves two students facing each other and holding a wooden stick — one with an inside grip and the other with an outside grip with no gaps between their hands. Then, they grip and pull against one another until someone breaks free with the stick in hand, winning the match. 

Last weekend, Lott and nearly 100 other elementary-age athletes competed in that event and others as a part of the Native Youth Olympics 2025 Junior Celebration.

Lott is Lingít and Yupik, and a fifth grader at Harborview Elementary. She got involved with the games three years ago after walking past the club while waiting for her mom to pick her up from school. 

Now, she’s pretty hooked. 

“I wake up early the day of the competition — this is the only time when my parents tell me to go to sleep I will,” she said. 

The competition opened with a cultural dance and song performance. The event was hosted by the Central Council of the Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska in partnership with the Juneau School District. 

On Friday and Saturday, students competed in six distinct events. All the games are rooted in Indigenous hunting and survival traditions used in the Arctic. Now, competitions for games like these are held across the state as a way to foster community and promote physical fitness during the cold winter months.

Kaytlynne Lewis is a coach and traditional game specialist for Tlingit and Haida.

“These games originate from Alaska, specifically and traditionally,” she said. “Long ago, before cell phones, radios, any sort of technology, hunters created these games to communicate with one another out in the Arctic.”

Just like the students, she too was a young athlete who practiced the games growing up in Alaska. She said the games are more than just about testing your physical fitness — it’s about connecting with your community and celebrating Alaska’s Indigenous traditions. 

“I’ve had some athletes say, ‘I was never rooted to my culture. I was never connected to my culture. And since I started the games, I feel more closer, and I feel a sense of identity,’” she said. “That is very impactful to me.” 

Mila Neely, a freshman at Juneau-Douglas High School: Yadaa.at Kalé, helped measure the height of athlete’s kicks during the one-foot high kick. She volunteered with other high school athletes to help with the games. 

“I’ve been doing NYO since I was in fifth grade. So like, this is my fifth year doing it,” she said. 

Neely said it’s special for her to be able to help teach the next generation of athletes. She said traditional games are unique from other sports in more ways than one. 

“It’s such a positive sport,” she said. “Like, you go to other sports and people will be talking trash about the other team, or even just wanting to win. In traditional games, so many times I’ve seen people give another person a tip that will help them succeed further than them in the games because it’s really just like being the best that you can be.”

In early April, Neely and other high school and middle school students in Juneau — and across the state — will compete in their own traditional games as a part of Sealaska Heritage Insitute’s 2025 Traditional Games. 

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond.

Tamara Wilson recently unpacked a living room at the Alaska State Museum. She made it out of felt — among other materials — for her upcoming show, “Slinkies and the Window Frame.” 

For the exhibit, Wilson built accordion-like creatures covered in orange ceramic tiles. They will be unfurled throughout the gallery space with nameplate necklaces that say things like “George.” Those are the Slinkies.

The show opens Friday at 4:30 p.m. at the Alaska State Museum and runs through April 12.

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

Tamara Wilson: They’re totally useless, right? Like the only thing that they do is bring joy, which I think is kind of wonderful. It’s a little presumptuous of me to say that the work will bring joy, but if it does, that’s great. But it really has no other function outside of just being present for the viewer to enjoy.

I’m Tamara Wilson, and I’m an installation [designer] and painter from Fairbanks, Alaska.

A lot of my sort of formal background in arts was mostly painting. And then as it kind of developed over time, the paintings sort of started taking over the space, creating the space. So then I started thinking less about the paintings themselves, and more about people viewing the paintings, or people being inside the space.

And so then that kind of naturally turned into wanting to create, almost like a three dimensional painting for people to be in. So the installations came about because the paintings just weren’t enough.

So this is the back side of the slinky that will get put on this armature and then hung on the wall so you can see the accordions kind of. It’s like stretched out, and then when they’re shipped, they’re all condensed. So then that’s when they’re in, like resting slink. And then when they’re in the gallery, they’re pulled out, so that they’re in more of their organic, moving form.

So this piece that you’re seeing from the back side, it’s called U-turn. And the like name plates say “You turn round and round.” And so it’s the necklace of the slinky, clearly, because every slinky needs a necklace, apparently. And then coming out of the end of it is that expanding foam that’s against the wall with more chain. It’s kind of like its gut spilling out.

So yeah, I mean, read into it what you might, but the nameplates kind of allude to why its contents are being spilled onto the floor.

So this right here is a frame, like a kind of classic oak frame, and it’s going to go in this wall here. And so the people experiencing the installation that’s going to be on the other side of the wall will be framed in this when they’re inside it. So you will view them from the more traditional side of the gallery as if they were in the painting.

It’s very much a living space. The installation itself, that’s kind of adjacent to the more traditional gallery space, is set up like a living quarters. It has a bed, it has a television, a heat source — the radiator — a lot of house plants. And then on this side of the wall, on this side of the frame, are these like slinky pieces, and they are more like creatures, forms that might occupy that living room space.

There is something that’s kind of intriguing about looking into somebody else’s space. And I guess that initially the inspiration for doing this framed installation — that the viewer can actually walk through the frame — originally was just like who are in these colossal portraits that you see in museums? Often like royalty or I don’t know people that I don’t relate to or know or know much about.

And so the viewer being able to be in that frame themselves kind of elevates the viewer to be the portrait, in a way.