At the “Hiker Trash Old Folks Home,” Senior Trekkers Can Live Out their Golden Years in the Mountains

The resonant whine of a chainsaw slices through the tranquil Alabama air, a familiar soundtrack to the rolling cow pastures dotted with stands of mature longleaf pines. Amidst this pastoral scene, a remarkably fit octogenarian, his long silver beard and shoulder-length hair framing a face etched with countless miles and stories, stands poised on the slope. Like a seasoned boxer, he skillfully maneuvers a powerful chainsaw, biting a substantial wedge into the three-foot-wide trunk of a venerable pine. His forearms, corded with the strength of years spent traversing rugged terrain, flex above sturdy hiking boots, well-worn jeans, and a vintage Appalachian Trail Days t-shirt, a testament to a life lived outdoors.

With a precise flick of his wrist, a wide V-shaped section of wood is dislodged. Shielding his eyes against the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, the man sights up the trunk as it begins to sway gently in the breeze. A broad grin splits his face, and a hearty yodel erupts, "Timber!" With practiced expertise, he withdraws the chainsaw’s bar and deftly sidesteps up the incline, just as the colossal tree cracks, groans, and then crashes through the overhead branches to meet the earth with a thunderous whack. A moment of reverence follows as he murmurs, "Thank you for your sacrifice. I promise it won’t be in vain, that you will be put to good use and appreciated for a long, long time to come."

This testament to enduring vigor and purpose belongs to M.J. "Nimblewill Nomad" Eberhart, an 88-year-old trailblazer who has already etched his name into the annals of long-distance hiking. In 2021, Eberhart captured international attention when he became the oldest person to complete a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. His record, however, was recently surpassed by his friend, 91-year-old Dale "Grey Beard" Sanders, a feat Eberhart himself proudly assisted. Today, Eberhart and a select group of mostly senior-aged backpacking companions are engaged in the selective felling of more pines. Their objective is to transform these fallen giants into usable lumber, cutting the trunks into manageable board lengths and loading them onto a waiting pickup truck. This bounty will be transported to an old sawmill, meticulously refurbished by Eberhart himself, which sits in a weathered cattle barn on the property, now serving as a curing shed. The sawmill will be instrumental in converting the pine into essential building materials: flooring, siding, two-by-fours, and more.

This harvested lumber will be the cornerstone for constructing cabins at the "Hiker Trash Old Folks Home," a visionary project spearheaded by Eberhart and his partners, Randy and LuAnne Anderson. This groundbreaking, nonprofit senior living community is an organic extension of the "Southern Comfort Hiker Hostel," which Eberhart, alongside the Andersons, launched just this past summer. The operations are situated on a picturesque 160-acre cattle ranch, conveniently located approximately 8.6 trail miles from the southern terminus of the Pinhoti Trail at Flagg Mountain. The Pinhoti, a 350-mile footpath, marks the beginning of the Appalachian Mountain range and connects to the Benton MacKaye Trail in Georgia. Furthermore, it serves as a vital link in the Eastern Continental Trail, which eventually flows into the Florida Trail, some 220 miles to the south.

"We envision this as a place where old hikers like me can come live, stay for a while, or simply visit when their bodies force them to finally hang up their pack," explains Eberhart, affectionately known as "Sunny" by his friends. This unique senior living community is designed to foster an environment where aging trekkers can remain immersed in the vibrant culture and supportive community of backpacking, sharing space with the bustling Southern Comfort Hostel.

The strategic location of this project is paramount to its success. "It’s perfect in terms of bringing in a lot of active hikers, but not so many that we have to worry about getting overwhelmed," Eberhart notes. His extensive experience, having thru-hiked every major long trail in the eastern United States multiple times, informs this careful consideration. Southern Comfort also boasts the significant advantage of being situated in mountainous terrain that is far enough south to largely escape the harshness of winter. This mild climate offers a welcome respite for seniors and ensures year-round accessibility for trekkers.

Residents will find their home in a thoughtfully designed complex of rustic cabins, surrounded by individuals who share their passion and life experiences. The initial phase of construction will feature approximately a dozen studio-style structures, thoughtfully arranged around a central welcome center, a communal pavilion, and a modern bathhouse. Future plans include the addition of tent pads and RV spots equipped with essential electric and water hookups, catering to a variety of accommodation needs. Eberhart and his partners are committed to fostering an active lifestyle for the residents, planning to organize group field trips that encourage participation in optional activities such as trail angeling, trail maintenance projects, and invigorating day hikes. The Southern Comfort Hostel will also provide valuable volunteer opportunities for residents, allowing them to contribute to the well-being of overnighting trekkers by assisting with meals or providing support. A central fire pit and a grill-equipped pavilion are designed to be focal points for intergenerational gatherings, fostering a sense of connection and shared experience.

Eberhart highlights the latter as a particularly unique and appealing aspect of the Hiker Trash Old Folks Home. "You find that broad mix of age groups on the trail, but not as intentionally concentrated as we anticipate it will be here," he observes. "Younger and middle-aged hikers will be able to sit around with old-timers like me and listen to us tell yarns and try to pass ‘em off as wisdom." This exchange of stories and perspectives, he believes, is invaluable.

The genesis of this remarkable endeavor can be traced back to a similarly diverse fireside conversation in the mid-2010s. Eberhart and the Andersons were hiking in the southern reaches of the Appalachian Trail when they found themselves gathered around a campfire with Janet Hensley, affectionately known as "Miss Janet," a longtime shuttle and support driver for thru-hikers. Miss Janet was known for her dedicated service, ferrying crews of college-aged thru-hikers in her van. As stories of trail joys and misadventures flowed, the conversation naturally turned to the future. The younger hikers spoke of the fulfilling lives they aspired to lead, while their elders offered a nuanced perspective on the fluidity of fulfillment and how perceptions of the "good life" can evolve with time. This introspective discussion prompted them to contemplate their own futures.

"I asked something like, ‘Do any of you think about what we’re gonna do with ourselves when doing this becomes impossible?’" recounts Hensley, now 63. Having spent the past three decades largely living out of her van, following the thru-hiker circuit up and down the AT, the question had indeed crossed her mind before, but a truly satisfying answer had remained elusive. "Because, for me, a life without the trail doesn’t seem like much of a life at all," she admits.

Randy "Chuck Norris" Anderson, who had fallen deeply in love with the AT community during his transformative 2007 thru-hike, immediately understood Hensley’s sentiment. "The way people treat one another on this trail is generally very different than how we treat each other out in the so-called real world," says Anderson, 67. He points to the unique camaraderie fostered by shared goals and tribulations, which effectively strips away social status and fosters a profound sense of human connection. The weeks spent immersed in the solitude of the mountains, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps, and the breathtaking vistas create a fertile ground for hope and the exploration of possibilities.

"On the trail, you support and encourage and help your fellow hikers out on their journey, and it doesn’t matter if they’re strangers," Anderson elaborates. "It’s like you’ve been welcomed into this amazing family that gives and gives, and because it is so amazing, you want to pay that forward and do some giving yourself."

Eberhart wholeheartedly agreed. His own journey into long-distance backpacking began in the 1980s as a respite from the demanding, often isolating, environment of his career as a Florida optometrist. Upon retiring in 1998, he embarked on a thru-hike of the Florida Trail, which unexpectedly evolved into a 4,000-mile odyssey along the Eastern Continental Trail. This transformative adventure allowed him to shed the identity of a healthcare professional and primary breadwinner, ushering in a new, unburdened chapter that has since spanned over 50,000 trail miles.

"Everyone agreed we wanted to spend the rest of our time on this earth being as close to the hiker community as possible," Anderson states. The concept of a trailside independent living community for seniors, complemented by a sister hostel operating on a pay-as-you-will basis, emerged as an ideal solution.

The collective vision gained momentum, and fate intervened when Eberhart was serving as a full-time state forest caretaker at Flagg Mountain around 2020. A longtime friend, Lloyd Caperton, offered Eberhart the opportunity to reside in a cabin on his expansive Weogufka cattle ranch. The bond between Eberhart and Caperton had been forged in 2000 when Eberhart, on a southbound trek along the then-incomplete Pinhoti Trail, found himself a year into a journey that had begun in Newfoundland and already covered over 4,000 miles. Seeking provisions, Eberhart detoured into the small community, hoping to find sustenance at an old country store and service station – which, as fate would have it, belonged to Caperton.

"How your average person viewed a long-distance backpacker back then was very different compared to now," Eberhart reflects. Thru-hiking was a relatively obscure pursuit, not widely understood or accepted. Rural residents often viewed trekkers with a mixture of suspicion and outright mistrust. Eberhart, accustomed to such apprehension, entered the weathered establishment with a degree of caution. To his surprise, Caperton, observing the disheveled hiker, offered a warm smile.

"You look like you’ve been on quite a journey," Caperton said. "Let’s get you some coffee and something good to eat." The two men ended up engaged in conversation for hours, a testament to Caperton’s openheartedness and curiosity. "Lloyd could’ve thrown me out and told me to get on down the road," Eberhart acknowledges. "Instead, he was kind to me and curious about my story. And what do you know, now we’re writing a story together."

Coincidentally, at the same time Caperton extended the cabin offer to Eberhart, the Andersons were actively searching for a permanent home situated on or near the Appalachian Trail. Eberhart presented the concept of a hiker hostel, and the couple relocated to Alabama around 2022. Discussions quickly evolved, leading Caperton to enthusiastically approve both the hostel and the Old Folks Home. He granted the group the freedom to expand the operations as they saw fit and, crucially, provided permission to utilize the onsite pine trees for lumber. Furthermore, Caperton pledged to donate the property to The Nature Foundation upon his passing, with a stipulation that the hostel and home continue to operate as long as they remain fiscally self-sustaining.

"I can’t begin to express my gratitude to Lloyd for this opportunity," Eberhart states with deep sincerity. "I’d say it’s one of those stranger-than-fiction situations, but I’ve been around long enough to know that sometimes the stars align to bring people together at the right place and right time."

The collaborative effort has already yielded tangible results, with the construction of a welcome center and a single cabin completed. The team is actively engaged in building additional dwellings and is simultaneously fundraising through an online campaign to finance essential infrastructure upgrades, including a larger well, a more robust septic system, and an expanded bathhouse. The availability of abundant free lumber and the dedication of skilled volunteer labor significantly alleviate the financial burden. Eberhart anticipates that the first residents will begin moving in sometime next year, and he harbors a hope that Janet Hensley might consider residing at the Hiker Trash Old Folks Home during her off-seasons.

Legendary thru-hiker George "Billy Goat" Woodard had been slated to be the first resident to occupy the facility’s inaugural cabin. However, unforeseen health complications have temporarily delayed his arrival. Despite this setback, interest from the broader trekking community has been unexpectedly overwhelming. Even with minimal marketing efforts, Eberhart and the Andersons have already received dozens of email inquiries. They are currently in the process of developing an application form for prospective inhabitants.

"Our main requirements are that you be genuinely kind, share a deep love of long-distance hiking, and be able to walk up two or three stairs unassisted," Eberhart outlines. He and the Andersons are filled with anticipation as they prepare to welcome like-minded trekkers into what they envision as their final, golden chapter, nestled within the majestic embrace of the Appalachian Mountains.