I’m no gun nut. My experiences hunting are limited to shooting rabbits with a pellet gun or .22 rifle when I was younger, and the biggest thing I’ve shot in my life is a 20-gauge shotgun.

That short list is a lightyear long compared to my experiences with a paintball gun. I had never even held one in my life; that is, until I found myself on a “battlefield” last Friday in South Dakota.

I made the trip West with nine other guys as part of a bachelor party for my future brother-in-law. The destination was Deadwood, where a house called the Bird’s Nest awaited us. The game room there sported a pool table, darts, foosball, Big Buck Hunter and video golf. While the downtown casino scene had some in the party chomping at the bit, I was just happy to be there for the good company and cold drinks.

I was a little tentative about Friday’s paintball plans. After waking up with a headache from the night before, I was more than hesitant to duke it out with my comrades in some stranger’s grove. Nonetheless, I gave it the ol’ college try – it’s not like I had an option, anyway.

Boy, was I a sorry sight out there. I’m not sure if I was the first one out every round, but I was close. I think my team started using me as a decoy after a while; a mere body shield for their more tactical moves.

The coup de grâce came when I was exchanging rounds of paint with an opponent for more than five minutes. He was pinned down and so was I – I’d shoot then he would, and so on and so forth. After a while, I thought I had a shot lined up when the front of my helmet exploded in neon green. The mouthful of paint and blurred visor shield indicated that I had indeed lost that round, too.

I got my revenge on more than a few members of the opposite team, though, so I feel like I got my money’s worth. No more so than on the bachelor himself.

“The Gauntlet” is resevered for sorry souls like him who are the subject of festivities like bachelor parties. He was forced to run a straight path with the nine other members of our party lined up, guns drawn and sights trained on his route. What ensued for the bachelor was several painful blows to his arms, abdomen and legs. What’s worse, we made him run back the way he came from for another go. I’d feel bad about it if it wasn’t so funny.

Despite my lumps and bruises, I had a lot of fun that afternoon. I’m not sure I’ll have the opportunity to do it again, but if I do, I might tape phone books around myself for a bit of protection. Those suckers sting!

Admittedly, the pain from paintball wasn’t worse than how my body felt after three days full of beer and bad food – I’m getting too old for such raucous outings. Mercifully, the list of bachelors I know has dwindled significantly in recent years.

Nick Pedley is the news editor of The Hartley Sentinel-The Everly/Royal News.