Written by Jonathan Kersting, Vice President of Communications and Media at Pittsburgh Technology Council and Allegheny County Parks Foundation Board Member

The first time my wheels touched dirt, I had no idea my life would change forever. It all began 29 years ago at South Park, at the head of the “VIP” trail along Catfish Run.

Fresh out of college, I was obsessed with mountain biking. My boss shared his passion for muddy trails and helped me pick out my first mountain bike. He was eager to introduce me to South Park’s tasty trails to show me what mountain biking was all about.

I had my dirt baptism on a cold Saturday in April. Just a few pedal strokes in, and I was hooked. The rough ribbons of trail, the rush of avoiding rocks, splashing through puddles, and navigating snake-like roots melted away all the worries of the world. My boss, way ahead of me, had clearly mastered more than just pedaling.

By the end of that morning, I was exhausted but felt more alive than ever, craving my next ride. The very next day, I was back, solo this time. I pushed myself to ride faster, aiming to overcome the obstacles that had challenged me just 24 hours earlier. Sure, I flatted my rear tire and struggled to fix it, but the gritty grin never left my face.

South Park quickly became my sanctuary. I made lifelong friends through rides and even outpaced my boss, who jokingly claimed he’d created a monster. I couldn’t disagree!

Over the years, we rode trails all over the region and across the country, but South Park remained home base. Thanksgiving morning rides, Halloween night rides, New Year’s Day slogs, snowy, swampy, or scorching — so many memories were made here.

I’d ride after work, between shifts, or at any excuse. Climbs like Buffalo Hump or the rutted steeps of Sleepy Hollow would connect me to new routes and adventures, pushing me just beyond my comfort zone.

Now, living next door to Frick Park, it’s become my daily haunt, but any chance to return to South Park feels like a homecoming. New trails have sprouted, and old ones have shifted, yet some downed trees from decades ago still rest where they fell, waiting for my chainring to kiss them again.

South Park draws me in, especially in the fall. Crisp afternoons and falling leaves bring back memories of past rides but also spark excitement for future ones. In another 29 years, I’ll still roll down the VIP trail, maybe a little slower, but with the same thrill and gratitude for that first metallic green mountain bike that opened an amazing door for me.

We’re lucky that South Park will always be here, ready for the next adventure, changing lives with every ride.