There are those who can run. There are those who can ride. And then there are those who fly.

Jason Miles, 23, Craig’s renowned BMX cyclist, can fly.

With a small mound as his launching pad, Miles reaches elevations over 20 feet off the ground.

As he soars through the air on his specially-made jump bike, Miles performs various aerial acrobatics.

On one jump, he jettisons his feet off the peddles. The next time he takes one hand off along with both feet.

On another jump, he flips his bike on one side and then returns it upright before hitting the ground. The trick is called a pancake.

Miles is an artist. The X-up, turn down, no footer, toboggan, 360, table top, are all part of his palette. The air is his canvas.

On the ground, friend Aaron Ruybalid is a more traditional, but just as talented, artist. With a back injury sidelining him, he sketches and takes pictures of Miles’ many flights.

Together, these two artists have sculpted a BMX bike park out of an abandoned forest and created the energy that has Craig’s youth turning out to attempt aerials off its vast array of jumps.

“That’s the only reason we’re still here,” said Ruybalid. “The time we have invested in that place is incomparable to anything else. It is like a home to us.”

The forest has always been a good place for riders to let loose.

The dirt from developing houses began to pile up in the open space. Riders constantly ran over the dirt, inevitably forming mounds.

But those early mounds were the products of randomness. When the Surewood renovators took over, they began to plot trails like they were building a house. The blueprints were all in their heads.

“No one dug before us,” said Ruybalid. “We’ve moved all around this place. We have plans for every inch here.”

The two began building in the early 90s. By placing the dirt in wheelbarrows, they were able to construct the bumps to fit their plans.

One giant mound, called a box, took 58 wheel barrow loads to complete.

Like the artist that he is, Ruybalid had envisioned jumps before they even took shape.

Instead of a resume of tricks, he has a resumf jumps that he built. There’s the table top, hip, spine and several others.

“People doubted what I was doing,” Ruybalid said. “But I would just start doing it on my own and then they would see it. Then they would help make it real.”

Every year, the park’s trails and jumps grew more and more. As the area came into its own, so did Miles.

His jumping status became legendary.

“Every kid on a bike knows who I am,” Miles said. “I love it, but I guess there’s a price with it. They always ask me to do this trick or that trick.”

A group of young riders shows up in the afternoons hoping he’ll make one of his spectacular runs. They line-up alongside the trail, trying to get the best view.

Miles doesn’t disappoint. On a baking hot Wednesday, he starts on one trail goes over a jump that traverses into another trail and then immediately goes into another jump.

“I could have stood up and you still would have flown over me,” one onlooker said in awe.

This sort of amazement is the inspiration for many young riders.

Jake Langlais, 16, saw Miles pull six feet of air off a street curb and was drawn to the sport.

“That blew me away,” said Langlais. “I had to try out the sport. I worked a paper route for a year to get the kind of bike needed.

“Now its not just a sport. It’s a lifestyle.”