M.J. Eberhart aka Nimblewill Nomad, was born in New York state and reared-up in the Ozark Highlands of Missouri. Eb is an armed forces veteran, and with much help and encouragement from his wife, Sharon, he managed a doctor’s degree. They were blessed with two wonderful sons that would do any father proud: Jay, age 39, wife, Theresa, a darling granddaughter, Jillian Amber; and son, Jon, age 33, wife, Terri. He retired a few years ago, the senior practitioner in a busy three-doctor optometric practice down in the sleepy East Coast Florida village of Titusville.
Nimblewill started hiking and backpacking in the early eighties. During that time he managed to hike a good bit of the Florida Trail and about half of the Appalachian Trail, from Springer Mountain Georgia to Duncannon Pennsylvania, all in jerks and starts over a period of fifteen or so years. In January 1998, he set out on his first uninterrupted long distance hike. That trek began on the Florida Trail, thence continued to the Cliffs of Forillon, Cap Gasp’ Quebec, a distance of over 4,000 miles. During that time he took on the trail name: Nimblewill Nomad. The years 2000 and 2001 brought about nearly that same hike in reverse, the first known trek o’er the entire Appalachian Mountain Range, at least as we know the majestic Appalachians to exist on the North American continent. That journey lasted 347 days, covered a distance of over 5,000 miles, and included a hike through the Long Range Mountains of Newfoundland. 2002 brought a cross-continental trek, an adventure-filled journey that lasted 147 days, over 3,000 miles, from the old lighthouse at Cape Hatteras North Carolina, to another old lighthouse at Point Loma in San Diego California. Quite interestingly, these respective odysseys generated much insight, much joy, and much profound inspiration. As a result, in the winter of 1999-2000, he published his first book, Ten Million Steps. Shortly after came a book of poetry entitled, Ditties, and in 2004, his third book, Where Less the Path is Worn, was published.
After retirement, he moved down on Nimblewill Creek, near the base of Springer Mountain (a six hour bushwhack), a picturesque rural community much like the Ozark Highlands of Missouri, near the little mountain town of Dahlonega Georgia. There, he started making up for lost time after being cooped-up in examination rooms with no windows for nearly thirty years. I think my philosophy fits: “There are no bad days in the mountains, some just a little better than others.”
Home: Russellville, MO
Favorite Training Grounds: Anywhere there is a trail to be hiked.