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Four days later, Jessi, Destiny and Meagan proudly display their paintball mementos |
Monday, May 21, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Adventure #5 - "Why are we doing this??!!"
Without a doubt, this month's adventure was the most dreaded, feared, apprehension-riddled and reluctantly approached adventure to date. What could have had our panties in such a twist, you ask . . . PAINTBALL!!!!!! Meagan chose this adventure because it was something she has never done and has always been scared to do. Little did she know, she would turn out to be the most fearless of us all! She sent an email to the rest of us a few days ahead and released a few clues as to the dress code and environment we would be in. These clues allowed most of us to figure out what it is we would be doing, and then began the horror stories . . . "it feels like getting slapped with a wet towel," "my brother laughed at me when I told him we were doing this," "it feels like a rubberband snapping you at close proximity," "you're going to be covered in bruises," "it HURTS!!!!"
After a few days of stewing over the certain pain we were going to endure, the time finally arrived. We drove north on I-435 to Jaeger's Subsurface paintball. That's right, paintball . . . in a cave!
Meagan had pre-printed the liability waivers off their website and presented these to us in advance. As we arrived, Lisa read aloud some of the wordage, "I understand and acknowlegde that the sport of paintball under certain circumstances may be an inherently dangerous activity that can result in the loss of life, eyesight or hearing, or a serious injury even to those who have experience in the sport. I also understand and acknowledge that there is the chance of being injured by a falling rock . . ." As you can imagine, this did little to allay our fears.
We arrived on site approximately 30 minutes earlier than our scheduled timeslot, so we drove back to a gas station we had passed en route for a little liquid courage.
At our designated time, we made our way inside, signed our waivers, paid our fees and headed to the bathroom to change into our paintball gear. Don't let me mislead you here. By "gear" I don't mean shinguards, knee pads, elbow pads, or body armour (all of which we would have gladly accepted). Our "gear" was two to three layers of old sweats, tees and jeans we didn't care about potentially ruining with paint stains. Needless to say, after applying all layers, we were feeling quite hot and sweaty. And thus ends the chance of any cute or flattering photos coming out of today's adventure.
We were given a brief, 5-10 minute crash course into the world of paintball: rules, regulations, equipment usage and courtesies were all reviewed. Basically, we would be divided into two teams and the object of the game is to take out the other team's players. You are "out" when a paintball hits you AND splatters. Paintballs that do not rupture, do not count. Once you are "out," you must leave the field. Game ends once one team annihilates all members of the opposing team. No shooting within 20 feet of each other. If you are daring enough to find yourself within this close proximity of an opposing team member, you must yell, "Surrender!!!" That player then surrenders and is out of the game.
For our first game we were divided into two teams: yellow team and blue team (see above photo for team rosters). Yellow team also had one 12 year-old boy, and blue team had two 14 year-old boys. I should add here that one of our biggest fears going into this was that we would have to play with strangers <gasp>, so the fact that these dreaded strangers turned out to be pre-pubescent boys was a welcome relief.
Each team assumed their positions at opposite ends of the field and then the whistle blew and it was game on. Jessi, Alli and I were hesitant to leave the relatively safe confines of our bunker so we stayed behind while Preston, our 12 year-old teammate, set out to conquer the enemy. Within a few minutes, Preston was out and we were left to fight our own war. If memory serves me right, I think Alli took Meagan out next with a shot to the thigh, and then someone took Alli out with a shot to her ribs. By this time, Jessi and I had made our way out of the bunker and were now huddled behind a couple of barrels while bullets ricocheted all around us, some even finding their targets. Unfortunately, none of the paintballs were splattering upon impact for either Jessi or myself, leaving us to take a repeated beating. I was hit right behind my left ear and thigh, while Jessi received several hits including the back of her arm, knee and a few other unmentionable places. At this point, survival seemed remote, and a painful future inevitable. In an act of desperation, I picked up an intact paintball off the ground and squeezed the paint onto my leg, thereby declaring myself out. (Not my proudest moment) I don't remember Jessi surrendering, but we must have looked pathetic and hopeless enough for the referee to blow the whistle and call the game. Blue team: 1, yellow team: 0.
We left the field for a momentary reprieve before the next game. Upon removing our facemasks, we saw that there was now a large group of men preparing to play. We all agreed we wanted nothing to do with them, so Ibegged and pleaded kindly requested that we be allowed to play a quick game, just us girls, and promised we would then promptly leave the premises, never to be seen again. The referee liked the sounds of that as I believe he was just as wary of us as we were of his beloved sport.
We took our places on the field once more, same teams minus the boys. Yellow team stuck with our cautious approach, lingering behind our bunker while the blue team made their way to our turf. Meagan later filled me in on what was going on on blue team territory. She said that she and Lisa were strategizing sneak attacks and covering for each other, while Amy hid behind a barrel for most of the game. One of these sneak attacks worked out for them and resulted in Alli surrendering to Meagan. I remember hearing Alli yell, "Ahhhhh!!! Don't shot me!!!!" As she walked off the field, hands raised above her head, I felt a mixture of envy that she was now safe, and the familiar sense of defeat creeping up on me. Jessi and I continued to defend our barracks, shooting rather blindly at anything we thought could have been a person. We finally worked up the courage to leave our protective bunker, only to run out of paintballs within the first minute or so. No ammo = no bueno. Game over. Blue team: 2, yellow team: 0. Turns out no one took any hits in the second game (where did all those hundreds of paintballs go???) and Lisa and Amy skated out of there with not a single battle wound.
Once the second game ended, we could not wait to shed our extra layers, breathe unimpededly and regain our peripheral vision. We made good on our promise, and called it a day, although I felt I could have kept playing if it would have been just us. Final verdict? I think Alli said it best, "that was a lot more fun than I expected!" While we all agree paintball is definitely a "boy-sport," and probably not something we will ever choose to do again, I think it's safe to say that we are all glad we faced that fear and can now say we have done it. Once again, I saw these amazing girls trample their trepidations, let go of their inhibitions, and release their reservations, all in the name of adventure. I am so proud of us for stoically completing this rather painful challenge, and I thank you all for being such brave women! Paintball . . . check.
After a few days of stewing over the certain pain we were going to endure, the time finally arrived. We drove north on I-435 to Jaeger's Subsurface paintball. That's right, paintball . . . in a cave!
A place that I'm pretty sure has NEVER seen an all-female group of patrons . . . until today!!! |
Meagan had pre-printed the liability waivers off their website and presented these to us in advance. As we arrived, Lisa read aloud some of the wordage, "I understand and acknowlegde that the sport of paintball under certain circumstances may be an inherently dangerous activity that can result in the loss of life, eyesight or hearing, or a serious injury even to those who have experience in the sport. I also understand and acknowledge that there is the chance of being injured by a falling rock . . ." As you can imagine, this did little to allay our fears.
We arrived on site approximately 30 minutes earlier than our scheduled timeslot, so we drove back to a gas station we had passed en route for a little liquid courage.
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Sitting in our cars in the parking lot of Jaeger's, building up our courage by way of our mouths. |
All suited up and ready to battle! |
For our first game we were divided into two teams: yellow team and blue team (see above photo for team rosters). Yellow team also had one 12 year-old boy, and blue team had two 14 year-old boys. I should add here that one of our biggest fears going into this was that we would have to play with strangers <gasp>, so the fact that these dreaded strangers turned out to be pre-pubescent boys was a welcome relief.
Each team assumed their positions at opposite ends of the field and then the whistle blew and it was game on. Jessi, Alli and I were hesitant to leave the relatively safe confines of our bunker so we stayed behind while Preston, our 12 year-old teammate, set out to conquer the enemy. Within a few minutes, Preston was out and we were left to fight our own war. If memory serves me right, I think Alli took Meagan out next with a shot to the thigh, and then someone took Alli out with a shot to her ribs. By this time, Jessi and I had made our way out of the bunker and were now huddled behind a couple of barrels while bullets ricocheted all around us, some even finding their targets. Unfortunately, none of the paintballs were splattering upon impact for either Jessi or myself, leaving us to take a repeated beating. I was hit right behind my left ear and thigh, while Jessi received several hits including the back of her arm, knee and a few other unmentionable places. At this point, survival seemed remote, and a painful future inevitable. In an act of desperation, I picked up an intact paintball off the ground and squeezed the paint onto my leg, thereby declaring myself out. (Not my proudest moment) I don't remember Jessi surrendering, but we must have looked pathetic and hopeless enough for the referee to blow the whistle and call the game. Blue team: 1, yellow team: 0.
We left the field for a momentary reprieve before the next game. Upon removing our facemasks, we saw that there was now a large group of men preparing to play. We all agreed we wanted nothing to do with them, so I
We took our places on the field once more, same teams minus the boys. Yellow team stuck with our cautious approach, lingering behind our bunker while the blue team made their way to our turf. Meagan later filled me in on what was going on on blue team territory. She said that she and Lisa were strategizing sneak attacks and covering for each other, while Amy hid behind a barrel for most of the game. One of these sneak attacks worked out for them and resulted in Alli surrendering to Meagan. I remember hearing Alli yell, "Ahhhhh!!! Don't shot me!!!!" As she walked off the field, hands raised above her head, I felt a mixture of envy that she was now safe, and the familiar sense of defeat creeping up on me. Jessi and I continued to defend our barracks, shooting rather blindly at anything we thought could have been a person. We finally worked up the courage to leave our protective bunker, only to run out of paintballs within the first minute or so. No ammo = no bueno. Game over. Blue team: 2, yellow team: 0. Turns out no one took any hits in the second game (where did all those hundreds of paintballs go???) and Lisa and Amy skated out of there with not a single battle wound.
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Blue team and yellow team, post-battle |
Once the second game ended, we could not wait to shed our extra layers, breathe unimpededly and regain our peripheral vision. We made good on our promise, and called it a day, although I felt I could have kept playing if it would have been just us. Final verdict? I think Alli said it best, "that was a lot more fun than I expected!" While we all agree paintball is definitely a "boy-sport," and probably not something we will ever choose to do again, I think it's safe to say that we are all glad we faced that fear and can now say we have done it. Once again, I saw these amazing girls trample their trepidations, let go of their inhibitions, and release their reservations, all in the name of adventure. I am so proud of us for stoically completing this rather painful challenge, and I thank you all for being such brave women! Paintball . . . check.
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