Locals use web to look for love

A new survey names Montana as the fourth best state in the country for singles. When the survey landed on my desk, I wanted to test the results by chatting with people actively trying to flirt, date and love in the Flathead.

Wallethub, a personal finance website, ranked states based on tangibles, like the number of single adults in an area or the cost of movies. Montana placed second for most movie theaters per capita, fourth for restaurants and third for the highest “gender balance of singles.” Click here for the full report.

So, is it easy to meet other singles in the 406?

No. At least not in the Flathead, according to a short-lived Tinder trial and — more reliably — a small sampling of local singles I chatted with over four days.

After a quick check-in text to my significant other, who responded “anything for the cause of journalism,” I downloaded the app Tinder and signed up for an online club called Flathead Valley Singles. I later noticed the Wallethub survey placed Montana as 47th for mobile dating opportunities.

My boyfriend’s joke aside, I was not attempting an undercover dating scheme under the facade of “investigative journalism.”

I worked through the questions attached to the platform for the Flathead Valley Singles at www.meetup.com. I picked between interests and subsections, then sent a message to the group’s founder asking for an interview.

As for the mobile dating app Tinder, I made the status “Kalispell reporter looking for stories of dating in the Flathead. Give me your good, bad and awkward.”

Soon, photos of men within 100 miles of me appeared. It was a strange world. For those who missed the Tinder train, if you see a photo you like, swipe right. If they do the same on your image, it’s a match and you can chat. But based on the matches of my evening, only one out of three people read the status. Maybe.

A man striking a pose in front of a bear skin mounted on a wall asked if I was, “looking to date (long term)???”

Before I could respond, he added, “Want to watch a movie with me tonight at your place??? You don’t have any kids right???”

It was 9:02 p.m. on a Wednesday.

I deleted my account after an hour and 20 minutes.

Luckily, the founder of Flathead Valley Singles called the same night.

“I don’t know that it’s easier or harder to date in Montana,” Jeffrey Von Kiper said. “Cultivating relationships is a long, drawn-out process, everywhere.”

In 2013, Von Kiper, 55, wanted to create a new social circle, with the hope of maybe meeting his forever gal.

“But outside of work, you’re basically left with meeting someone in the grocery store or at a bar,” Von Kiper said. “I didn’t want to go to a bar every weekend and make a friend or two or none. I wanted new friends, a lot of them, right then.”

Von Kiper paid $180 to open a group on www.meetup.com and announced an open invitation to singles in the Flathead. Today, there’s 442 Flathead Valley Singles members, according to the group’s page.

While the club is open, it has rules. Rule No. 1: You have to be single.

“That’s a beauty of a singles club,” Von Kiper said. “If you’re sitting at a table with 20 people and strike up a conversation with the person across from you, you don’t have to wonder if they’re single. If they’re there, they are. Whether you get a number or things progress from there, that’s up to you.”

Before someone can join the club, they have to check a box promising to create events that get people face-to-face. Each member also has to post a picture on their account since the intention of the group is to meet up, “staying hidden behind a screen is not allowed.”

Von Kiper said the last rule is, if someone meets a significant other, they’re out, “out of respect for the spirit of the singles club.” Von Kiper created a second club, Segue, for those people transitioning from single to couples who still want to meet with the group now and then.

BY Friday night, I broke rule No. 1 as I joined roughly two dozen singles mingling in the back tables of 406 Bar and Grill in Kalispell. Some had been part of the club for years, like the night’s host, David Alexander. About three years ago, Alexander was recovering from a divorce. He only knew the community of married couples he and his ex-wife created together.

“I didn’t know how to meet anyone outside of that, and it is definitely not an easy thing to do here in the Flathead,” he said.

He tried sites like www.match.com and apps like Tinder, “but that was a little overwhelming,” he said. “I’m sure there are a lot of sincere people on those sites, but it takes a lot to get to them.”

After a few months, Alexander found the singles club after a “friend of a friend’s friend” mentioned it.

“I was able to tailor events to the type of people I’m drawn to,” he said. “We took a group of 39 people kayaking out to Wild Horse Island, we go hiking, we do happy hours — if I happen to meet a woman there, I already know we have something in common. If I don’t, I’m hanging out with a fun group of people.”

Sharon Lyon was one of a handful of people attending the club for the first time. Lyon said when she moved to the valley, she tried to meet people by volunteering.

“It’s a family-centered area, and that has a lot of benefits,” she said. “But as a single woman, when I raise my eyes to make eye contact with a man, I’m always worried he’s married. And here, he typically is. But where do you meet people? I refuse to go to a bar, I’m looking for a partner, not a one-night stand.”

Throughout the night, she drifted from tables, socializing with the new group of friends. She said she wasn’t there to strictly to meet a man, “But if it happens, that’s nice.”

ON THE other end of the bar, a couple waved over to the group, without making their way to the table. Years before, Ray Taylor, 52, and Ronni Marcum, 42, had passed each other up on the dating website Plenty Of Fish. Marcum said it was easy to scroll past online profiles.

“When you’re looking on a website, you have this idea of the person you want, but what’s right may not make sense on paper,” she said. “But when they’re there in front of you, you get to see the characteristics dating sites miss.”

Taylor and Marcum met for the first time at a singles club event.

“I had just returned from Burning Man,” Taylor said.

“And I was the only person at the table who knew what that was,” Marcum added.

At the second meetup they attended, Taylor lost his wallet, so Marcum loaned him some money. The third time they met was at a brew fest. Taylor owed Marcum a drink, and they said the rest is off the record.

They’ve been together since 2014 and now own a home in Kalispell.

Von Kiper grinned as the couple talked and filled in the gaps they left out about their meeting.

He said the club created an outlet for people meeting in the valley. So in that way, he said, it’s been a success — even though he has yet to meet to the love of his life. He’s dated “a half-dozen women” from the club, but none of them stuck.

At this point, Von Kiper said he’s sworn off women, though he said “it could happen” if the right lady showed up. For now, he said he’s happy with the community he’s created.

“I do so much with these people that I don’t really need a girlfriend ... I’ve made life-long friendships, people have dated, married, people who would have never normally crossed paths in their life have cultivated significant relationships,” he said. “And when people start dating, it makes me feel good. It’s almost a labor of love.”

Reporter Katheryn Houghton may be reached at 758-4436 or by email at khoughton@dailyinterlake.com.