MINNEAPOLIS -- On a recent Sunday morning, nearly 50 people in long pants and sun hats, some toting loppers, gathered beside the Mississippi River.

It was the second meeting of the Minneapolis Buckthorn Removal Singles Club, a group of mostly 20-and-30-somethings circling up for an icebreaker.

Attendees shared their dating preferences and suggested two topics others could talk to them about while they worked. (Women hoping to meet a guy who cross-country skis and builds furniture for his cat were in luck.) Then the BRSC’s organizer, William Cooke, explained how to identify the oval leaves of Minnesota’s most menacing invasive plant.

Cooke had recently noticed buckthorn overtaking a local park. It reminded him of how dating apps have invaded the social scene, choking out more natural methods of partnering up. What if he could entice singles to do habitat restoration with the prospect of meeting other eco-minded eligibles?

Before the group descended on the buckthorn thicket, Cooke reminded attendees that if they did meet someone special, he’d encourage them to keep coming for the rest of the summer. “You can wingman other people if you want.”

Bonded by a common enemy

Cooke, 27, works with autistic children and is in grad school for counseling. (His ideal woman: “Someone who has a lot of deep interests and passions that they’re really committed to.” Suggested conversation topics: “sci-fi and fantasy novels or acrobatics.”)

Cooke envisioned the BRSC as taking a friendship-forward approach to matchmaking and prioritizing IRL relationships over virtual. Call it Slow Dating: a rejection of corporations’ encroachment on culture, akin to Slow Food and Slow Fashion, but for love.

A few weeks ago, Cooke tacked up a handful of fliers about the BRSC, and word of the group spread online like wildfire. “Nothing creates a bond quite like a common enemy right off the bat,” somebody commented. “Honestly, I’d be so attracted to a gal who was down to go do this,” another wrote. “Respects nature, helpful, not afraid to get her hands dirty.”

Other commenters offered suggestions for renaming the group (“Thorny Singles”) and post-event activities (“I guess we’ll have to check each other for ticks”).

The BRSC’s collectivist concept resonated in a post-ICE-resistance Minneapolis. It paired fun with education and do-gooderism, like other quirky, homegrown social events such as the Great Northern festival and the Wedge Cat Tour. Unlike bars and clubs, prowling with apex predators, the BRSC was a safe space where participants might unashamedly tuck pants into socks.

Even those already coupled were intrigued. “I may have to separate just so I can attend,” one heartbreaker posted.

Hacking not swiping

As the club hacked and piled branches, buckthorn-buster Genevieve Bolling said the sweaty activity likely weeded out those who weren’t committed conservationists. And it felt like an organic way to get to know someone. “It’s not as awkward as going on a first date,” she said.

Many participants described using Bumble, Hinge, etc. as miserable experiences. “Most people either end up feeling bombarded, or lost in a void,” Cooke explained. Actual dates you go on, he added, are colored by the knowledge that there are plenty of other attractive options, just one swipe beyond the person presently in front of you.

Also: Profit-minded apps encourage daters seeking long-term relationships to keep casting their line, and their dominance discourages daters from pursuing other methods. “With over half of relationships being started online, you kind of start to feel like online is the correct place to do that,” Cooke said.

Emily Szeliga held a buckthorn branch for Jacob Smith to cut and said she had stopped using apps (“they’re a little soul sucking”). To Smith, the expectations established by online dating seemed artificial and formulaic. “It doesn’t feel like you get to develop things in a natural way,” he said.

Both disliked how apps created illusions of romance and pushed daters to decide if they were attracted to someone before they really got to know them. “When you are just spending time with people, you’re more checked into the relationship and you’re checked in with yourself because there’s none of that pressure,” Szeliga said.

Attendee Sydney Queen studies a crop disease spread by buckthorn and had come to the meetup with another single friend on a quest to meet romantic partners through unconventional methods, including speed dating and pitching a friend’s datability via a PowerPoint. “We’re trying to bring more fun into dating and to make it a little less depressing,” she said.

App users are notorious for ghosting and Queen said she’d heard every manner of credulity-straining, last-minute excuse, from “my sister got evicted” to “there’s a fire at my work.” Even though Queen wasn’t on an actual date at the BRSC event, she noted that at least prospects were physically present.

After an hour or so, the BRSC had amassed several large piles of buckthorn brush for park staff to discard. And it had sprouted potential love connections.

One wingwoman explained how she’d nudged a few pairs to take the next step. “I saw two people vibing and I was like, ‘Oh my God, everyone’s flirting, you two have to exchange numbers.’ ”

©2026 The Minnesota Star Tribune. Visit at startribune.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.