Paintball Magazine Paintball.Media Magazine October 2019 | Page 60

ISaturday morning it was game time and
I was at the field as the sun came up. Our
first game wasn’t until almost 10am but I
figured it might take me at least that long to
figure out which end of the gun went bang
and I should probably try to learn the team’s
codes. Pulling the Inception Ripper together
didn’t take long – bore sizing paint to the
marker’s included multi-piece barrel kit with
a spiral ported front, threading the barrel on,
locking my hopper into the clamping feed
neck and screwing a compressed air bottle
into the gun’s Inception ASA that aired the
marker up with a quick slap. A walk to the
chronograph didn’t take too long but for
a few stops for people to point and laugh,
reminding me how long it’d been since
they’d seen me play a tournament – if they
ever had. Stepping inside the net I laid my
barrel on the chronograph and cranked off
my first shot: 291 feet per second. Not bad!
Then a second shot. 291. Finally, a third shot,
also 291. I looked around, mystified. Did this
thing really just shoot 291, 291, 291? The
display on the chrono didn’t lie and I figured
that was just fine, so I left, making sure to
stop by the NFG and Inception booths
along the way to ask a pointed question
– did these things always shoot like that?
Simon just looked down at me and smiled,
saying something about “that valve.” Have
I mentioned he’s like a foot taller than me?
Drank milk all my childhood and five-foot-
eight is the best I got.
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Once it got to be my turn to put paint in the
air alongside Northwest Rogue, I found my
loaner Inception Ripper (with a loaner hopper
and loaner air bottle) to be an accurate, fast,
reliable, consistent, smooth-shooting, head-
turning machine. Running white-shelled
Evil paint all day, I only touched my velocity
adjuster once after my 291, 291, 291 moment
at about 8 that morning, and that was for
our last game as the sun was going down
on the Hyperball field, as the heat of the
day required me to ease off a hair. That took
a quarter-turn and about ten-seconds to
accomplish before I was right back on at 294,
295, 294, another string I was happy to live
with. Shooting that aforementioned super-
brittle Evil, I never once during the entire day
touched the swab I had tucked in the side
pocket of my brand new paintball pants – I
never needed it as I didn’t break or chop a
single ball.
Photo by Michael Mohr