ryland_moore

Oh yeah, well I'm a 2%er in the muff diving world. Ask trask's new girlfriend I am what you'd call a technical muff diver. I insert myself into some of the most trecherous muffs around. I even do deep muff diving and rescue muff diving. I once tried cave muff diving, but it was a little too dark for me. Anyway, I am a pretty hard-core muff diver and challenge anyone to prove me wrong. Ladies?

She'd make a nice ropgun! I'd always have to look up at her.......although being her ropegun could be nice too on multi-pitch cause then I would be looking down on her and couldn't get in trouble for checking out some cleavage! Yes ma'am, SK, I'll go take a cold shower.

There will always be better climbers than you and in other aspects of life as well. So what Cleophus? Does that make you less of a person? I climb .11 sporto routes and still stuggle up 5.9 cracks and have been climbing since I was 16. Do I get down on myself because some 12 year old can climb harder than me and has only been at it for a few months? Never. It is about being out there and doing what you like. As time passes, just like with your diving, you accrue knowledge and learn from every experience. I think this site and all the folks here are not about becoming the top 2% - whatever the hell that means. We are all climbers from different backgrounds, with different styles, with different motivations coming together to talk shit, throw some beta about routes, and share our experiences. There is encouragement, discussion, and trask-talking all the time. Either deal with it and contribute or leave. We could care less. This is not some heavy, members only, elite site who chestbeat constantly about what they've done. I have actually been pleasantly surprised to learn that many of the climber's on this site are really amazing, excellent climbers, far better than I am. But you will never know it from their posts, cause they ain't out there promoting how good they are. You only find out through talking to others or seeing them climb, or hear about them sending some new route. Chestbeating is fine, but you won't see quotes like Without seeming to be boastful I am a damn good diver on this website without some joking conotation attached to it. My two cents.

Cheers, Pope!

hairball, the way I read your response is that it is not necessary to take down jackets. You give a hint that down could be useful, but your group didn't need any. That may be true and you lucked out with weather, but most of the average of ten people who die on this mountain each year, die on the normal route and die because they are not prepared. When I was there in '99, 11 people died from one storm because they didn't have the proper gear. My contacts froze in their case while on the other side of the mountain and we were tent bound just below 20,000' for 4 days waiting out a storm. Don't know how cold it got, but I had a -20 degree bag and bivy sack and was freezing cold each night. On the normal route you may never even touch snow on the entire climb depending on the winter snow conditions. It is a slog, and you will encounter a lot of scree and dirt, but you will see some amazing peaks around you once you get up over 18,000'. Enjoy it and good luck.

Make sure someone gets pictures when ya do! Wonder how that feels if ya bust comin' down the talus and scree fields? Would your "buddies" pull through? Damn that makes me cringe thinking of razor sharp rocks slashing at my cocknballs. Kinda like the scared turtle in full effect.

The way I read it you won't need down jackets and pants unless you're planning to sleep in those instead of a sleeping bag. leads me to believe he is saying don't worry about bringing it at all unless you want to leave your bag behind. One or the other? Sorry if I misread your response. Latrix

Since I was on a budget when down there, we stayed at an awesome hostel set up primarily for climbers. They even ran a guide service out of it. It is less than a block away from the main center of Mendoza near the fountains and they party like rock stars there. I can get the name for you if you'd like. Also used Grajales for mules, but he is definately the most expensive. There are many more operators in the area. Read the book talked about earlier. Public transportation is definitely the easiest and cheapest way to go. The buses will take you from Santiago to Mendoza, or instead of going to Mendoza, will just drop you off at the starting point for the climb. All you will be doing is backtracking to start your climb and riding a bus from Mendoza to Santiago that stops half-way. Only benefit is for resting and shopping, but remember that Argentina is more expensive than Chile. It cost me about $20 from Santiago to Mendoza and double on the way back. We actually went back to Santiago to catch a bus down to the Straight of Magellan, even though you chave to go into Argentina to get there because the longer bus ride out of Santiago was $125 less. Mendoza is nice and Argentinian women are beautiful albeit fake. We were there during the Wine festival and met a guy who owned a vinyard in N. Cali and had all these VIP passes. Pretty cool parties, although everyone was wondering, Who are these dirtbags? There is also an awesome restaurant in Mendoza that serves amazing steaks ($10 US for tenderloin)One of the nicer restaurants in Mendoza and still cheap. Remember, people don't start eating until around 10-11pm. It's a siesta thing. Beef in Argentina far surpasses any US beef. If you fly-fish, I'd bail on the beaches. They are beautiful, but not extraordinary. I'd get a bus down to the Lakes District and fish for sea run browns or nice rainbows in the lakes and streams. Pretty awesome. Oh yeah, when you get down from the mountain and are waiting for transportation back to Mendoza or Santiago, order a Super Lomo from the roadside stand. Egg, Avacado, mayo, mustard, ketchup, bacon, mystery meat, lettuce, tomato, and onion on a pita. Then go soak in the hotsprings. We actually camped there too illegally. Don't worry about spending money on the mountain. Just bring box wine litres (Gato Negro) you can buy at any supermarcado for $1. Better than most cheap wines in bottles you find in the US. Above all, go the Polish Glacier side. If conditions are not good on the glacier can always do the False Polish which traverses over to the Normal Route near 18,000'.

I went to college about a 1/2 hour from Foster Falls. Plenty of awesome steep sandstone, but at the end of the day it was awesome to free solo underneath the waterfall. It is deep right out of the water (can't touch bottom at the base) and the top of the falls is about 70 feet above. The rock starts out vertical then goes to about 120 degrees at the end. Pretty awesome to fall back in the water, especially coming out of a cool stream on a hot, humid summer day!

Oh yeah, forgot about that issue. The permit issue is much more intense there then in PNW. If you don't have a permit, then you will have to deal with the Argentinian Military who patrol the areas with a Unimog and AK-47s! It is worth spending the money to not have to deal with the military and have your trip thwarted. Also, you are required to take a trash bag they supply you in and have it full when you return. If they think that you left anything on the mountain for the time you were there, they will fine you. I.E. If you are a party of three and are on the mountain for two weeks and return with a half-full trash bag for the three of you, then that will probably warrant a fine.

I am always "On the market" until I tie the knot. Although with that attitude I may never get there. Always browsing the menu - doesn't mean that I have to order from it. Unless significantly tempted.

Damn, I knew I should have stuck around longer at Pub Club. I had a hunch about your crazy ways Anna. I'm gainfully employed and have an "in" through our mutual friend, Laura P. right? She'll vouch for me!!!!!! Y'all have a blast. Wish I could join you, but have to take a photographer out to one of our properties for a book. Will just have to settle for Sunday climbing at Flagstone. Will be there in Spirit.

Travelled in a Unimog around Patagonia for two weeks. Those things rock! Will go anywhere, super cheap towing capacity of 80,000 pounds, top speed of 50 mph, and a ridiculous number of gears. My friends has 18. Most do not look like the one in the pic. Most are old miltary vehicles, made by Mercedes? There is a place in Georgia that sells them and rebuilds them. Most look like this

I believe that is what your call Pirate's Treasure! Wha, Wha????? Booty! I said Booty!

Don't you have to really try to trash a Unimog? Thought those things were indestructible?

Props Bro! How does HC and chocalate frosting taste? Where's Trask when you need him. I am sure that it can't taste too much diferent less the Horse Have a good one.

Goat Boy, you may have to give up as goatboy became a member a full year before you did and has posted twice as much! Seniority Rules! Odoyal Rules!

Was he a tourist or from Italy? Always wanted to try one of those lines. Hear there are some pretty exposed lines over there. Did ya feel safe, as in more or less safe then being on the sharp end of an alpine route? Don't you need some special gear that Petzl makes?

Good points Chuck and Goat Boy. I guess as I was writing, I was thinking as well. I wanted as much as I could get in, but the editor cut a bunch. I guess that's what you get when you write spec articles. It was interesting to see the editors trying to get me to say something controversial. Much worse than what my article had. All in all it was a good experience and I am glad that you all took the time to read and critique it. No, I am not some old crotchety elitist, as I said in the long version, and I love having people in the mountains. I love taking newbies along with me and I teach kids weekly, rock climbing techniques. Hell a couple of the kids in my class (6-12 year olds) can lead 5.11 sport! Within a year I expect them to be stronger sport climbers than I, and although they aren't leading trad, they fly up cracks at the columns with ease. I am all for people in the mountains, just wish more people took climbing more seriously and took a little more time to learn. I am still learning and would feel greatful to anyone who called me out if I was doing something stupid - not stupid as in running it out on lead, stupid as in glissading with crampons. Is it a pipe dream? Maybe. My opinion matters about as much as the next person's. You have made me think of things from a different perspective and outside my collective box. Hope I have done the same for you. Hope to see y'all out cragging soon. As for the cell phone issue, well that section was definately not refined. Like I said, this article was edited about 20 times, and when I go back and read that, it does sound elitist and that is not who I am. Just trying to put pen to paper. Dissent is good!!!!!!!

Here ya go: Dissent is good and always appreciated. Thanks, y'all. Ry A Vantage Point I am not some lofty alpinist who spends nine months of the year bivyed on precipices the size of a skateboard while tackling the world’s highest peaks and most coveted routes. However, I am a climber. I have seen my days in the mountains over my eleven years of climbing experience and have scratched my teeth on routes that I was challenged by. I have faced austere conditions in the mountains, and although they may not be considered epics on a Joe Simpsonian level, they were situations that I would have rather not been in given the choice. I have had opportunities to live and climb near beautiful mountain ranges in the US like the Tetons and the Cascades for the last five years and have had the opportunity to climb throughout the Andes and Mexico as well. Over these last five years, I have begun to notice, and I am by no means an expert, that climbing, in all of its capacities, is becoming a sport glorified by the mainstream media. In return, with each passing winter, there seems to be more and more individuals climbing on the most accessible routes in search of achieving that status of glorification. Do not get me wrong, I am all for people getting into climbing and I encourage it through working with children at the local climbing gym in hopes that they will be introduced into the sport much the same way I was. What I disagree with is individuals getting into climbing because of how others will perceive them and not because you would do just about anything to be in the mountains for the experiences and challenges alone, even if it meant being ostracized by society. In early May, while climbing Mt. Hood’s Leuthold Couloir, I experienced something in the mountains that I have never experienced before – Anger. The trip started off perfectly. After skinning up along the Palmer lift and crossing Zig Zag Glacier, my buddies, Gabe, Graham, and I bivvied near Illumination Saddle under a crisp, star-filled sky, watching the lights of Portland twinkle to life as the sun set into the Pacific. We awoke at 3 a.m., geared up, and set out down the saddle, traversing the upper Reid Glacier in thigh-deep snow deposited by a storm less than a week earlier. We rounded a band of rocks and headed up the couloir proper, frontpointing up sustained, 45-degree, wind-blown snow and ice. We were constantly barraged by small pellets of rime ice from the looming Castle Crags and Yocum Ridge, which formed the right and left sides of the couloir. Wind-worn half steps left by a previous party made route finding a non-issue, keeping me from pretending that this was an unclimbed route, as I often do in the mountains. We continued up the narrow couloir, only taking breaks to rest our burning calf muscles. With two other parties following (an uncommonly low number of climbers for this route), the couloir began to open up and the ice showers stopped as abruptly as a spring thunderstorm. Thirty minutes later we stood at the base of the Queen’s Chair, looking off down the ominously steep north and east faces of the mountain. My buddies and I were ecstatic over the line we had chosen and could not wipe the smiles from our faces. This feeling of ecstasy, however, would soon give way to a feeling of bewilderment. Upon arriving at the summit and after having the Leuthold practically all to ourselves, I arrived upon a scene that I am becoming all too accustomed to. With around 80 individuals on the summit and trains of rope teams, one directly behind the other, coming up the South Side, I was no longer in a pristine environment surrounded by my experiences and challenges. I was now forced to deal with other’s experiences. People chatting on cell phones, bragging to their friends who were awakened from their slumber in some nearby city at 7am to hear, “Dude, guess where I am? The top of the World, Baby!” as they shout to anyone else around who will listen to them. Now picture 20 or 30 individuals all doing the same thing. From statements to,”Yeah, we just finished our climb and will be down soon,” to “Did you catch Billy Bob Thornton hosting Saturday Night Live! Last night?” People were chatting away, as if they were calling all of their friends to find out where to meet up for happy hour after work that day. “Can you believe how bad the reception is up here?” I find this mentality slightly skewed and do not comprehend why someone cannot wait a few hours once they are down and are actually finished with their climb before calling their loved ones to let them know they are safe. When I go to the mountains, I am trying to get away from what society throws at me on a daily basis. I am trying to clear my mind and focus on the challenges before me, not recreate my Monday morning routine experience at the local coffee shop on the summit of a mountain. When reading stories by climbing’s legends like Reinhold Messner, Peter Croft, Greg Child, or Fred Beckey, where do they state, “And as I reached the summit, filled with joy over my accomplishment from this first ascent and reflecting on this project I have had my eyes on for the last decade, I became overwhelmed with the undying urge to call my friends on my cell to let them know of my success!” Ok, maybe the cell phone wasn’t around just quite yet during most of their first ascents, but you get my point. Though typically I would spend a half hour soaking up the views, eating food, and re-hydrating on the summit, I felt rushed and anxious to descend after only 10 minutes. I had no urge to take it all in. This was a scene I could take in at the local coffee shop on any weekday morning, not a scene I had climbed to the top of Mount Hood to savor. We began our descent, but after only two minutes were stopped dead in our tracks by pack trains of climbers coming up through the Pearly Gates. With 10 climbers in front of us and more piling up behind, I began to feel like I was in line at a concession stand ordering a hot dog and a beer. The line began to creep forward, and after descending a set of steps that looked like a construction crew had built them, I was free of the first bottleneck. The rope teams in front of us with less experienced climbers descended down to the Hogsback at a pace that my patience could no longer bear. I waited behind a timid climber who held his ice axe backwards with the wrist loop dragging in the snow and inched forward as if testing the waters of a hot tub. Feeling my impatience, he turned to me and said, “This is my first time climbing.” I moved to the side and descended rapidly past his team, quietly muttering like Yosemite Sam. We returned to our bivy site, packed up, and skied down to the parking lot. A little worn, I plunked down in my Crazy Creek, dug up the beer we had buried in a snow pile, and stared up at the mountain. Why had I become so frustrated, impatient, and angry up there? I felt fine now, more relaxed in the Timberline parking lot than I had felt on the summit. Graham and Gabe, arrived seconds later after returning the permit, excited over our ascent. “Man, what an awesome line!” said Gabe. “Yeah, could you believe the conditions we had in the Couloir?” replied Graham. Nothing was mentioned about our experience on the summit at that time. Looking up at the <I>South Side,<P> I began to reflect on past climbing experiences. I recalled climbing in Peru, Chile, and Argentina, when I would look forward to seeing others after days of isolation. I remembered what it felt like to climb a route alone, with only my thoughts and a snippet of song looping in my head. I remembered what it felt like to arrive at a summit just as the sun hit my face without another soul for miles, relishing my escape from the daily routine of life. A year ago, on the eve before heading out to attempt the Ptarmigan Traverse in the North Cascades, two climbing partners and I rented “Vertical Limit.” This was just another addition to the mainstream media’s extreme craze that indoctrinates fledgling climbers with the idea that climbing is all about going to the extreme without taking the time to learn how to climb properly. In return, there seem to be more and more "climbers" on the most accessible routes each season, filled with fallacious images of being the next “Peter Garrett” or “Elliot Vaughn”, yet lacking the basics learned in Climbing 101. With the latest tragedies in the Cascades on Mt. Hood and Mt. Rainier, I wonder if there are too many people in the mountains with too little experience? I am not here to pass judgment on the 14 climbers involved in the accidents this year on Hood and Rainier and have heard from many reputable individuals who new the climbers involved in the Rainier accident that stated they were very experienced. Nor is it my position to provide a direct correlation to the number of people chatting on cell phones on a mountain’s summit to the number of climbers who lack the experience to be there. But I think that what we as climbers all need to ask ourselves is, is climbing a recreational endeavor that I take on because it sounds cool? Or does it move me in some profound way that I feel compelled to learn everything there is to know about climbing because it, for me, consumes a large part of life? I am no hard-core Steve House or Mark Twight. I cannot fire 5.14 at will (or even after a hundred red-point attempts for that matter) and even get thumper legs when I am clipping bolts on a 5.10 run-out. But, I can tell you that I am committed to climbing. Each and every time I plant my ice axe in the snow or load up my trad rack, I am thinking. Of my surroundings, of potential hazards, and knowing that I will be relying on all of my skills and knowledge I have collected over these years, no matter how large or small they may be, so that I can – not reach the summit or fire off my hardest grade ever so that I can come back and brag to my friends but, - have a truly amazing and memorable experience. Of course I am enjoying the weather (when it is enjoyable) and sharing in the experience with my partners, but I do not allow that to get in the way of taking precautions and maintaining some sort of seriousness to the task at hand even if it is subconscious and even if the climb ahead is a “walk-up.” With the numbers of climbers I see in the “backcountry” on routes like Mt. Hood’s South Side, I find it surprising that accidents like the tragedies in May do not occur more often in the US. In mountains around the world, like Mt. Blanc, the Matterhorn, and from my experience on Aconcogua, there are many deaths each year and with that, people who just do not belong there. Is it because of the shear numbers that visit these slopes each year and dumb luck or is it because of lack of experience and easy accessibility that makes these mountains deadly? Are the easily accessed US mountains becoming the same way as more individuals get out to experience what they offer? Who am I to sit on my high perch and say who belongs and who doesn’t? What if someone were saying this to me 11 years ago when I was first starting out? Accidents in the mountains will continue to occur no matter how much experience individual climbers have. We are not always in control, although some us may like to think we are, and there are situations and conditions out there that are much bigger than we are. However, there are some aspects that seem prevalent in the generalized new American style of climbing that I disagree with. We as a society are reactionary. Almost everything we do in our lives is a reaction to something placed before us. We declare bankruptcy when we go into debt instead of relying on sound financial planning. We clean up pollution after we have created it instead of preventing it in the first place. However, in the mountains, we may only have a matter of seconds to react to or prevent a situation that could mean the difference between climbing another day or death. In the accidents on Hood and Rainier and in many of the stories catalogued each year in the American Alpine Club’s Accidents in North American Mountaineering, there are opportunities that climbers could have taken that were preventative and may have allowed them to bypass having to react to a life-altering decision. What if the snowboarder on Mt. Hood had climbed the Cooper Spur and checked out the conditions first? What if the climbers on Rainier had not continued to climb/descend Liberty Ridge once the weather began to deteriorate? What if the climbers on Hood had spaced each other out more between parties or not roped up after getting above the bergschrund or had been on a running belay system? Now, it sure is easy for me, a 26 year old, to make these critiques from behind a computer after pondering over the tragedies for over a week on climbers who may have had more years of climbing experience than I am old. And asking, “What If…” does not help the climbers who died and their families and friends who lost loved ones. In my eleven years of climbing, if I ever saw someone doing something in the mountains that seemed wrong, dangerous, or incomprehensible, I was always told to just, “Stay away from them or they may kill you along with themselves.” However, with more and more people venturing out into the mountains to see what all of the glory is about without thinking of or realizing the consequences, maybe it is our duty to point out to individuals that maybe they do not belong here when you see them putting their crampon on backwards or tying in improperly and you look around and do not see a more experienced partner letting them know of their errors. As for me, I do not think I will be near the South Side route of Mt. Hood on a beautiful, busy Spring weekend anytime soon and will stick to the “road less traveled by,” although those are harder to come by as well. I hope that other, more experienced climbers will politely ask the next person they see on a cell phone calling to brag from the summit,” Would you mind waiting to do that on your own time in the parking lot and not on mine up here?” Or to a climber who looks like they might be getting in over their head to say, “Do you think it is safe to descend a route you haven’t scouted first because this snow seems pretty unconsolidated to me.” These little remarks force others to consider what you are saying. So what if the guy calls you a jerk and says you don’t know what the hell you are talking about. You never have to see them again. But, what if it causes a less experienced climber to deal with his subconscious and brings him away from the beautiful weather and day of enjoyment to consider, if only for a moment, the potential hazards before them before a committed decision to proceed is made? You may have just helped to prevent an injury or a death. Do I think all of these fatalities could have been prevented? Maybe, maybe not. Do I think the climbers involved could have taken other steps to attempt to prevent what happened instead of forcing themselves to react to situations they put themselves in? Definitely. Maybe these accidents will provide a wake-up call to those who do not realize the seriousness that climbing requires and will begin to see the lines between Extreme Sportz on TV in a more controlled environment and a climb up a glaciated peak. Maybe it will force people to question, do I really have enough experience to be up here doing what I am doing or should I maybe try and seek out some help and learn a little more from those more experienced than I? There is no “certification” process that says, Mr. Moore is now a Certified Climber, like you have with sports such as scuba diving. I know I am always willing to teach what I have learned and I continue to learn every time I am out from those with more experienced than me. So, why should you waste your energy worrying about other’s safety when you have your own safety to worry about? I am against more regulations being placed in the mountains on who can climb what when, but I am worried that with the ease of access, the liability on our nation’s parks, and the scrutiny they may receive from the general public complaining that the public’s tax dollars are going to an unnecessary level of rescues, that restrictions may be implemented to such an extent as to make it very difficult to climb any mountain or route who’s access we now take for granted. Who knows, maybe one day we will all be required to show a Climber’s Certification card when we go to register for a backcountry climbing permit or purchase the latest ice tools from a dot.com company overseas. On the ride back to Eugene, Gabe, Graham, and I didn't talk about the summit scene on Hood. Maybe we wanted to erase it from memory, lest it detract from the incredible experience we had had during the ascent. Or maybe it just went without saying that what was most important to us was our experiences and memories from the route we climbed and not the photo from the summit. Ryland Moore Eugene, OR

Nelly, can't PM you, you don't have it turned on. Got your real e-mail addres. Could send it to you as an attachment.

As it was such a short article, there are many behind the scense workings that went on before the article was published. My original article was around 2600 words and delved into a situation where I witnessed just that, a more experienced climber helping out a less expereinced party on a route with no other parties around. I also went into depth more about the tragic accidents on Hood and Rainier, saying that it could happen to the most experienced or first timer, no matter what the conditions were and that we as climbers understand and take that risk every time we go up. IMHO, I do feel that accidents can be prevented in the mountains -easy to say in hindsite and easy for me to say from behind a computer when I was not even there - bu there are some basic rules in my book that I listen to. Do not continue to go up when weather continues to deteriorate. Do not continue up difficult terrain without setting protection (ie. running belays)and turn around if you are feeling uncapable or unsure of your abilities. As for the climber on Hood who tried to snowboard down the Spur without climbing it first, well I think that is self explanatory. I guess I tried my best in the 1000 words I had and it was edited and rewritten about 20 times. My first stab also focused heavily on mass media's role in getting people into climbing and comparing it to other extreme sports like motorcross, ESPN X games and people wanting to be the next Peter Garret from Vertical Limit. I discussed how the mainstream media glorifies the lifestyle and in return, you are seeing more and more individuals out there who are about doing and less about learning how to do. Coupled with a "reactionary Societ" (a whole different tangent I could go off on), US people are forced to react to situations that they are not prepared for in a mtter of seconds, when if they had learned properly, much as many of us had, then maybe some accidents could be prevented. Am I exempt from an accident? Never. Are you? Never. But why would we not stack as many cards in our favor to help us be prepared in the event something does happen? My experience over the last few years in the Cascades on many of the dog routes is that I see very few newbies trying to learn in comparison with newbies who want to learn all they can instead of getting out there and learning as much as they can. Does this mean you have to have a guide to teach you everything? Absolutely not. Even reading books is a step. Maybe some people learned on there own. That is awesome. But at least they took the initiative to learn. Newbies who don't take this time to learn or even want to learn, but want to do is my concern. Those folks who want to do and are not even fully aware of the inherent dangers around them is what scares me and makes me decide, do I want to try and help this person or should I leave him alone. I have decided to lend a little advice, but I am also seeing that when I do that, I receive some sort of macho explitive shouted back at me. Does it bother me? No. I'll never see them again. But what if it makes them think for a brief moment that they are in over their heads or really shouldn't be doing what they are doing? Who knows. I tried my best (especially since I am no writer) and my experiences are different from everyone elses on this list. Just one point of few out of many, but I stand by my feelings on the Hood and Rainier tragedies. If you would like to see the unedeited version of my article that delves more deeply into Society, mass media, large cities in close prox. to large US mountains, then PM me and I'll send it your way. Thanks. Ryland

Uh-oh, "Dick", the whistle was blown!

Still doesn't explain your writing ability. I know who you are - older man, likes young girls, but too poor to upgrade from a Beta, and has friends in witness protection. You are Ward Weaver, the abductor of the two girls outside Portland!

Flcik, didn t know you had a driver's liscense. At least from your writing, it seems that you have a writing ability of a fifth grader. Maybe you should try www.hookedonphonics.com. It may help you with your disability. As for the small package part, well can't help you there. All you can do is blame it on bad genes. Maybe those pumps could help you out?