The federal designation of a National Scenic Trail in Alaska is a mistake that Alaskans should be deeply concerned about. The federal government still owes us land from our statehood. So, why would we hand over more authority to federal agencies? Giving them more control over the small amount of land they allow us to have is the wrong move.

National Scenic Trails are administered by federal agencies, such as the Bureau of Land Management or the U.S. Forest Service, which coordinate with state and local land managers. If history and the John Sturgeon case have taught us anything, it’s that these federal designations often lead to overreach, overriding local decision-making and imposing one-size-fits-all regulations that don’t reflect Alaska’s unique needs and way of life.

The proposed 500-mile, possibly quarter-mile-wide, trail would cut across a mix of federal, state, municipal, and private lands, including Alaska Native holdings.

Alaskans should particularly worry about the restrictions that will be imposed on motorized vehicles. The National Trails System Act generally prohibits motorized use on National Scenic Trails, although exceptions can be made. But experience shows that even with exceptions, these rules often end up restricting snowmobiles, ATVs and other motorized vehicles that are crucial for everyday life here. Many Alaskans depend on these vehicles for recreation, subsistence, and transportation – especially along routes like the Iditarod National Historic Trail, which overlaps with the proposed Long Trail. Federal rules could make access to these trails more difficult for those who rely on motorized vehicles for work, recreation, or even survival, including loggers, miners, and rural residents. This is a real concern that has been raised repeatedly, and we shouldn’t ignore it.

Another significant issue is the impact on private landowners and Alaska Native corporation lands. The proposed 500-mile, possibly quarter-mile-wide, trail would cut across a mix of federal, state, municipal, and private lands, including Alaska Native holdings. It would bisect the state from Seward to Fairbanks. Federal oversight of this trail would complicate land use and property rights for many landowners, potentially leading to disputes over land access, similar to what we saw with the SCOTUS Sturgeon case. Alaska’s tribal communities, too, could see a loss of autonomy as federal regulations interfere with their traditional uses of the land. This is not something to take lightly.

For rural Alaskans, as well as for hunters, fishermen and trappers, the impact on subsistence and traditional uses of the land should be a major concern.

When it comes to priorities, Alaska has far more pressing infrastructure needs than a scenic trail. Projects like developing Port MacKenzie, completing the Point MacKenzie rail spur, or finishing the Northern Rail extension are essential for creating a resilient economy, supporting resource development, and securing safe transportation routes for Alaskans.

Redirecting state resources toward a federally managed trail, especially one that only benefits a small group of recreational hikers, makes little sense. We must question why these funds are being spent on a project that doesn’t offer clear returns on investment, particularly when there are urgent needs elsewhere in Alaska.

Federal designation of this trail would also introduce more bureaucracy and red tape. We’ve seen it time and again with other federal land management policies in Alaska, including the restrictions placed on national parks and waterways. This would bring additional permits, environmental reviews, and easements that could slow down economic development and limit access to lands that are crucial to Alaskans. Who’s going to be responsible for maintaining the trail, picking up human waste, and covering the ongoing costs to keep it open and usable? These questions need answers, but they’re rarely addressed in the rush to push through these types of federal designations.

For rural Alaskans, as well as for hunters, fishermen and trappers, the impact on subsistence and traditional uses of the land should be a major concern. For many, trails like the Iditarod are essential for hauling food, supplies and other necessities – they’re not just tourist attractions. A National Scenic Trail designation could shift priorities away from these practical needs and place greater emphasis on non-motorized recreational tourism. That’s a direct threat to many Alaskans’ way of life, particularly indigenous communities that have relied on these routes for centuries.

Finally, there’s the strain on Alaska’s emergency resources. If (big IF) this trail attracts more visitors – many of whom may not be prepared for Alaska’s wilderness – our already limited emergency services could be stretched even thinner. We simply can’t afford to divert resources from rescuing residents to dealing with inexperienced hikers in remote areas.

These concerns represent a deep tension between the potential benefits of a National Scenic Trail – essentially just recreation opportunities for tourists – and the very real fears about losing local control, access and the practical utility of our lands such as economic growth and resource development.

The Bureau of Land Management’s feasibility study, which is set to conclude in Fall 2025, will evaluate these issues, but we’ve seen enough federal involvement in Alaska’s lands to know that it often comes with a loss of local autonomy and control. The reality is that trails like this are deeply tied to our daily lives, and it’s critical that we maintain the ability to manage them ourselves.

It’s time to push back against more federal control in Alaska. Our lands, our rules. Click here to contact the BLM and let them know that Alaskans are opposed to the designation of the long trail as a National Scenic trail.

The views expressed here are those of the author.

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