Okay...to humor Nicholeye and bore everyone else:
In 1992 I was in Madrid studying and decided that since I was cheated out of my chance to run in 1990, I would head up to Iruña (Pamplona) and run the bulls. I knew enough about it to know that you CANNOT run the entire course. Most guys choose a "tramo" (segment) and run that, either getting out of the way as the faster bulls go by or jumping over the valla (barricade) as the horn nears the buttocks...
We started about half-way through just before the famed "Estafeta" turn, where most bulls fall on the cobblestone street with its 90-degree turn, and morning dew on the stones. We heard the first rocket, then the second, signifying that all the bulls were in the clear (and on the way), and a sense of serious bravado entered my nostrils...along with a mild dose of fear. As the men around us started jumping up and down, I did the same, as we all strained to see where the animals were.
Before we knew it, the mass of humanity came our way, and we were being run, instead of running. We stepped off to the side and let most of the rookies go by, waiting for the serious runners to catch up to us. With rolled up newspaper (I chose "El Correo Español" for the task), we started moving with the thinned pack. Little did we know that on this day, things were not going to go as planned.
On a normal run, the bulls are out of the corral at the bottom of the hill by city hall and in the bullring about 2'50" later. On this day, they would take almost 8 minutes to reach their destination. The group split into three, and the cows didn't do their job of keeping the herd together. Because of this, we ended up with time to make it into the ring, where the fun continued.
Since we were all a little confused as to the number of animals that had made it in, and how many were out, we were in the ring enjoying the atmosphere, when one of the larger bulls came in followed by two cows. This was my closest encounter, and also the time where I learned just how easily I could jump over a wall about 5 feet high...head first! The body is capable of amazing feats when a 1600 pound bull is bearing down.
The bottom line on the whole encierro is, a) don't get drunk and try it (I wasn't, but most others were...they pull out the visibly inebriated); b) don't "go with the flow" of the pack, as the throng is mostly rookie drunks from the U.S. and New Zealand who start five minutes early and are in the bullring before the bulls are even let out of their corral at the start; and c) if you go down, STAY DOWN. The bull will go right over you (as long as you went to mass the day before...San Fermín will protect you
.)
After running in the encierro, I have sworn off two activities: skydiving and bungee-jumping. I'm afraid that they would be an adrenaline let-down after what I experienced in July of 1992. Gora San Fermín!
If you have the chance, I HIGHLY recommend this as an unforgettable summertime experience.