When it's man against a hulking, 2,000-pound bull, eight seconds doesn't go by as fast as you might think.

"It seems like an eternity when you're out there," said bull rider Ty Meibos, a straw cowboy hat pulled low on his forehead, his jeans tucked into blue and white leather boots. "It's dangerous."

Meibos, 29, of Lancaster, is one of half a dozen bull riders who competed Saturday and Sunday in the PRCA Rodeo at the Ventura County Fair. He was raised on a ranch in Utah, started riding calves as a kid and progressed from there to become a high school national finalist.

"I grew up with it," Meibos said of bull riding. "I just love it."

Meibos joined the professional circuit almost five years ago. He rides in events sanctioned by the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association and the Professional Bull Riders.

"You always shoot to go to the NFR in Vegas," he said. At the PRCA National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas, millions of dollars in prize money is on the line and bull riders — the superstars of any rodeo — receive top billing.

But it's not the money or even the fame that comes with winning big at nationals that lures Meibos and other regulars to the rodeo circuit. It's the rush of nerves and adrenaline, sitting in the chute, waiting for the gate to open, a twitching bull named Crazy or Tuff Guy itching to spin or buck its rider off.

"It's definitely the most dangerous sport," Meibos said. "You never know what's going to happen when you're out there."

Meibos hones his skill at rodeos throughout California and sometimes elsewhere, but his bull riding is relegated mostly to weekends.

His day job as a heavy equipment operator for a Camarillo company pays the bills and provides him with much-needed medical insurance.

Two years ago, he blew out his knee.

Just two weeks ago, he got knocked off, and the bull stomped on his back. Still, if you show him the biggest, meanest bull in the pen, that's the one he wants.

"I want 'em all," he said. "If there's a bull no one can ride, that's the one I want."

Ask his girlfriend, Candy Johnson, if Meibos is crazy, and she answers without hesitation.

"A little bit," said Johnson, who has watched Meibos get stomped on and knocked out.

"You can't talk him out of it," she said, and she wouldn't try. "I'm used to it. I've been around it all my life."

The crowds love the spectacle. Sunday afternoon, more than one thousand people filled the grandstand at Seaside Park, oohing and aahing over rope tricks and stunt riders, cheering on the team ropers and laughing along with the rodeo clown.

When the announcer came on the microphone to introduce the bull riding, the rodeo's finale, fans roared their approval.

Meibos slid into the chute, wrapped a rope tightly around one hand, was out the chute and off the bull before the clock ever reached eight seconds.

He was bucked off Silver Legacy on Saturday night and had no better luck Sunday afternoon, when he was disqualified for slapping the same bull with his free hand as he came out of the chute.

"They opened the chute before I was ready," he said with a shrug.

Of the half a dozen riders competing Sunday afternoon, just two managed to last eight seconds.

Meibos was scheduled for one more shot Sunday night at the final Ventura show.

Next weekend, he'll find a new rodeo and another bull to ride.