Emily Ito Wu (she/they)
Photo by Valerie Perez
The 2026 Flash Foxy Mini Fest held at Linda Lago Hideaway in Kentucky was nothing short of magical - reminding me of the sacred power in community and the beauty that can be cultivated with an open heart and compassion for one another.
Leading up to the event, I had my reservations. Firstly, I was going to be in attendance of total strangers (I’d heard about the event from a loose acquaintance in a queer Asian climbing group chat, who couldn’t attend the event). Then there was the fact that I wasn’t exactly in optimal climbing condition - the last time I’d climbed was months ago, so I wasn’t sure I’d be able to “perform”. And finally, I was freaked out by the sheer scale of the event or the large social gathering nature of it all - I tend to gravitate towards gatherings of no more than 4 people at a time.
Yet there was something still calling to me, to escape the concrete jungle of NYC, visit Kentucky for the first time, and simply be with rock-climbing-loving queer folks, like myself, despite my social anxiety and physical unpreparedness.
A night at Linda Lago Hideaway campgrounds and a few moments by the lake helped calm my nerves, which were triggered once again come morning, when I (sweatily, fresh off a run) faced a massive group of people…mingling (oh no).
Come to find out, I wasn't alone - signs were made to signal interest, for those lone stragglers like myself, groups were pre-formed by staff welcoming folks seeking specific communities, and everyone brought this compassionate and curious energy that made me feel welcome from the start - from the staff, volunteers, to the attendees.
Next thing I know, by the power of body language and some mouth shapes, I'd found myself amongst a cluster of rock climbers and in the presence of a big rock. A Ludacris song, some roughed up hands, and many laughs later, and I'd felt I'd found a group of friends already.
Throughout the couple of days during Flash Foxy, I was struck by this tangible feeling of being seen, cared for, and simply belonging by being. Even now, as I write this, I find it difficult to pinpoint exact moments that made me feel this way. It was the result of a microcosm of small moments - from the way strangers lent their wisdom freely (teaching new skills in lead-climbing, flirting, and more), the way space would be made at the lunch table, the way we collectively danced on that unsuspecting pole and rushed the dance floor for the last song, to the curated workshops that promoted care for our bodies, our land, and the people that live atop it (and more).
Though there may not be physical evidence of my time at Flash Foxy (a club bouncer unfortunately cut off the wristband I'd been wearing for over a week), there's an emotional, dare I say, spiritual, evidence to this experience; a few days when I not only touched rocks and soaked in the crisp Kentucky air, but also had the lucky chance to engage with like-minded, strong, sweet, brave, inspiring, loving human beings; a few days I felt engaged and simply alive.
Thank you Flash Foxy, for this heart-opening experience.
