I was born in Juneau, Alaska, and raised at the edge of the Taku River.  My mother, Kathy (Gilbreth) Maas, arrived in Juneau from Flagstaff, Arizona to teach elementary school at the age of 20; my father, Ron Maas, was  raised in Watertown, Wisconsin and moved to Alaska in 1960.  Both musicians, they met in the Juneau Symphony.  By a lucky chance, the Taku Lodge fell into my dad's hands in 1972 when the bank asked Maas Realty to sell it after the previous owners had gone bankrupt.  My parents were married at the lodge and opened it in 1979 as a cruise ship attraction; tourists flew in over the Juneau Icefield and then landed at the lodge for a homemade salmon bake dinner and a stroll around the picturesque property.  I was two when the lodge opened and spent every summer there until I was fifteen and the lodge was sold into other hands.

My summers at the lodge were...well, quite indescribable.  A thousand tourists told me how lucky I was to live there, but of course I did not understand that until my last few years there, and then not fully until it was gone.  I was happy, raising Canada geese, getting to know black bears, feeding squirrels, exploring the woods, sitting in endless contemplation on the riverbank, watching the world go by from the branches of the cottonwood tree, canoeing through the sloughs behind the lodge, picking strawberries and blueberries for my shredded wheat in the morning, (when I didn't eat fresh oatmeal raisin cookies), flying onto remote mountain lakes where I swam in cold, clear water, fishing on Johnson Creek, reading by the wood stove at night while the mice scampered across the floor.  All nostalgia aside, I was happy, if somewhat melancholy, with few exceptions.  In the fall, my family moved back to our house in Juneau so my brother Michael and I could attend school.  The transition from living in the wilderness without my peers to school life was always difficult and I felt the same confusion in reverse each spring.  As I aged, the fall transition became easier and the spring transitions harder (though I was always grateful in time).

After I started my sophomore year of high school, my parents sold the lodge and built a cabin on their new property at Bullard's Landing three miles south of the lodge.  I spent much of the following summer there, but less so thereafter.  After graduating from Juneau-Douglas High School in 1995 I was lucky enough to be accepted into the Oberlin Conservatory of Music.  I moved to Oberlin, Ohio where I spent three semesters immersed in classical music, but generally miserable.  I finally realized that living in a city, or living outside of Alaska at all, was not worth anything, even playing the trumpet for a living, so I moved back to Juneau.  After working at a plant nursery in the summer and in respite care during the winter for a few years, I returned to school at the University of Alaska Southeast where I discovered that I needn't have left Juneau for brilliant, stimulating professors and life changing classes.  I graduated with a liberal arts degree in social science (emphasis in anthrolopogy)  in December of 2001. 

Since returning from Ohio, I had reoriented on the wilderness and on tourism.  In 1998 I sought a tourist job during summer break and found myself working on boats narrating about history and wildlife for the next four summers, including short wildlife trips out of Auke Bay and day-long trips to Tracy Arm and Gustavus/Icy Strait.  The ocean became more and more important until I wound up with a sailboat, skiff, and a full set of SCUBA gear and I'm on or under the water as often as I'm able.  For many years my vacations were almost entirely taken up by diving.  After I graduated from UAS, I took a job with the State of Alaska where I still work, today with the Department of Fish & Game.  In 2002 I began building an eco-tourism lodge in Port Snettisham with the hope of one day making a living sharing this place with visitors.