Welcome to the first entry in FrictionLabs’ new series, Connor's World. Each month, I will explain a particular climbing technique.
Who am I? My name's Connor. I’ve been climbing for 13 years, primarily as a boulderer. I’ve lived in Colorado for the past 10 of those years, getting lost in the ocean of rock throughout the state as often as I can. I’ve climbed up to V11 and established new boulders up to V10 outside. I am a professional route setter, a student of climbing movement, and a coach––but only to you, readers :)
Oh, and I love dynoing.
Isn’t this an easy answer? Because flying through the air like a happy dolphin is utterly liberating. What’s that you say? Sending your project is more rewarding? No, no—sticking a huge dyno is way more fun. Trust me.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had flying dreams, or gone skydiving, but dynoing is kind of like that. But, just in case you’re wondering what exactly a dyno is, let me momentarily push aside my childish exuberance and explain it to you.
The term “dyno” is a slang abbreviation for “dynamic.” A dyno is a dynamic move, i.e. one in which you use momentum and power to cross a large distance between holds. A typical dyno requires you to jump from hold(s) to hold(s), and can cause your body to swing violently upon execution. Sounds like a blast, right?!
Most of us climbers aren’t born with the freakish athleticism of NBA players. Then again, even if a raw talent with jack-in-the-box legs showed up to the climbing gym, she still wouldn’t be able to dyno well right off the bat. Because it’s allll about the technique.
Learning how to huck huge dynos takes many, MANY hours of practice. A truly well-executed dyno requires a combination of momentum, precision, and strength to pull off. What follows are the basic components that go into a classic, straight-up dyno.
First off, here’s what you need in order to practice:
Secondly, here's a rundown of proper dynoing mechanics:
By now, you’ve probably seen other climbers in the gym flailing about, desperately jumping around like schizophrenic chimps. Or maybe you haven’t. Since dynoing is not the most intuitive movement, especially in a sport that inherently favors precision and control, most of us would benefit from some visual learning. If your eyes glazed over and you browned out during the step-by-step description above, don’t worry, there’s a video.
So, without further adieu, we present to you Nik Vukovich, The Flying Serbian, in a masterful demonstration of the magical art of dynoing. Enjoy!