On a Tuesday night at 11:47 PM, a resident named Sarah caught a clip of two teenagers attempting to break into parked cars. Before they could pop the lock on a Honda Civic, the video captured a slow, glowing light approaching from the end of the cul-de-sac. Then came the sound: Beep-beep... beep-beep.
Local police have given him an unofficial endorsement. Officer Linda Hayes of the county sheriff’s office stated: "We can’t be everywhere. Having a sober, responsible citizen like Trike Patrol Mitch acting as our eyes and ears has reduced petty theft in that zip code by an estimated 40%. He knows his limits. He calls us first." No story about a civilian patrol is without friction. Trike Patrol Mitch has faced his share of critics. trike patrol mitch
Mitch gained his moniker four years ago when residents of the Sunset Hills subdivision noticed a peculiar yet comforting sight: a large, heavy-set man wearing a fluorescent yellow vest, cruising silently on a massive, customized adult tricycle equipped with storage baskets, a mounted flashlight, and—most famously—a small, battery-powered siren that chirps like a polite duck. On a Tuesday night at 11:47 PM, a
Mitch operates on a simple schedule: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights from 8 PM to midnight. He covers roughly eight miles of suburban streets. He does not carry a weapon. He does not attempt to make arrests. His entire strategy relies on the psychological principle that wrongdoers avoid witnesses. beep-beep
The teenagers fled on foot. Mitch calmly noted their direction, radioed the non-emergency police line, and waited. The video received 4.2 million views on TikTok under the hashtag #TrikePatrolMitch. What makes Trike Patrol Mitch different from vigilantes or aggressive HOAs is his philosophy: Visibility is deterrence.
A local documentary filmmaker has expressed interest in a short film titled "Three Wheels, One Mission." Mitch is hesitant. "I don't need fame," he says. "I just need the kids to stop stealing my neighbor’s bird bath."