Into The Fields Of Fire

This past weekend I engaged in something new, an activity that I have always wanted to do, but up until Saturday hadn't dove in and tried.

What am I blathering about? PAINTBALL!

For our dear friend's high school graduation, his dad scheduled a huge bout of paintball at Fields Of Fire North in Rathdrum, Idaho, a nice little jaunt down the hill from our farm. They had to have a minimum of ten players, so I might have enthusiastically said I would gladly play if enough youngins didn't show.

We started off the afternoon at our friend's home in the woods, eating grilled things and demolishing a cake the size of a respectable bronze broad breasted turkey. All in all about twelve kids showed up, so I vacillated a bit as to whether I should engage in paintball carnage or not.

Here's the thing, all of the kids are nationally ranked competitive marksmen, a couple of them are heading to nationals in Nebraska for 4-H next week. These kids are not just good shots, they are phenomenal.

I know this because my hubs is their coach and I have been observing their progress over the years.

---

But I really, really wanted to play paintball.

---

The time came for us to all hop in our vehicles and caravan to the field of carnage. The hubs and I were going to ferry a couple heathens as well as our own, but as I stood waiting for all the kids to suit up in their mish mash of surplus military gear, Comrade E came up to me with a bulletproof tactical vest and held out his arms:

"For you Commissar."

---

I looked up at him, as he is a lofty 6'4" and replied,

"Shall I be the PRESS then?" as I slipped the vest over my shoulders.

Now might be the time to mention that the vest was about thirty-two sizes too big. Like I could have smuggled a fully cured ham on one side and maybe a bushel of apples. But my face was all kinds of smiles because the kids began cackling and saying, "Kat's gonna play, Kat's gonna play"

---

Heck ya I was.

---

So, down the hill we went. We arrived in no time to Fields Of Fire North and I was impressed right away by the welcoming committee:

She was the bestest creature ever, all kinds of luvs dispensed to all!

The bro that ran the paintball place exuded chill and competence, I really liked him. Since I had never done paintball before, I stood back and let the kids and Comrade E's dad lead the way. Before you could say, Tactical Terry we all had rather large paintball guns and masks in our hands.

It's probably a good thing to note at this point that I looked like a little kid in his dad's military surplus gear, I had on a 4X t-shirt of Comrade E's dad's and the super not huge at all vest. I tightened the mask as tight as it would go and it still wouldn't stay on my head right, and the paintball gun itself was way too big for me.

But you know what, I didn't care, I was having fun already.

Chill Paintball Bro and Nanny Dog led us down a meandering path after giving a pretty standard safety briefing. Stuff like, "Keep your muzzle cover on when not in play" and "keep your finger off of the trigger" were reiterated as well Once on the field ALWAYS keep your mask on. Other than that there weren't too many rules, I liked how chill the place was.

Right before we headed out to the field of battle, we stepped into what looked like a post apocalyptic batting cage and had our weapons calibrated. Our guns needed to be at 270FPS. Of course my son's was at 310, he looked proud as the Paintball Bro slightly adjusted the settings on his weapon. Silly boy.

We got to the battlefield after a short meander through the trees and I immediately loved it. It looked like an architect with a fondness for Soviet apartment block architecture had a bit of a Potemkin Village phase. There was even an old plane fuselage!

And paint, there was paint on everything!

After another little safety speech, we split up into our teams and I was on the red team. We all had little pieces of plastic ribbon tied to the back of our helmets to help avoid friendly fire (which did happen lol).

Our first game was team deathmatch, and my team was sent down to the church. YES! There was a freaking church like out of an old Clint Eastwood spaghetti western. It even had the cross windows for firing out of, a tower, and a courtyard. That was our base.

Our paintball bro began counting down, the match was about to begin. Already, due to the excessive moisture we had, my ill fitting mask was fogging. Oh boy.

"Go!" our ref shouted and I watched my son, Comrade E, and Gav take off on the right flank. We had decided that I would provide cover fire at our base while they went out and eliminated people.

I was delighted by this because before long I got my first person, I shot one of the other dads right in the flintlocks, he looked really cool with a paintball splotch on each pocket of his jeans.

After a couple of rounds of elimination, Paintball Bro decided the teams were a little unbalanced (my red team had won both rounds) and he mixed up the teams. It was then time for capture the flag.

Capture the flag is one of my most favorite games ever! The first match was a long, drawn out battle, and we had a kid on our team who would just camp at base and not go out. The timer was ticking on the match so I darted up the middle, using the various buildings as cover and yelled at Gav that I would cover him while he ran to get the other team's flag. There were a couple people left on the other team and they were holed up in the church, so while I peppered them with paintballs, Gav sprinted in and grabbed the flag. We won!

Now, one caveat. Paintballs smart a bit. Not as much as getting stomped on by a insolent cow, but it does leave a mark. Even with my ridiculous vest on, my first hit was right in the armpit. Even now, three days later, I have a bruise the size of an apple on my side.

I don't even care though, it was beyond fun!

My daughter was really impressive, she got hit point blank in the chest and that welt is just glorious! She held off the entire red team in the church tower for a long time before getting massacred. So proud!

Comrade E's dad ended up buying 4 cases of ammo and we played for four hours! It was so much fun, I want to go again, as do all the kids!

Then again, I am the Commissar, so I suppose it's alright to join the fight😁

---

And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's surprisingly paint free iPhone.