Mitch — Trike Patrol

And what does Mitch think of all this attention?

The local police department is ambivalent but cooperative. "As long as Mitch doesn't escalate," said Deputy Rivera, "we appreciate his eyes and ears. He's filed three DUI reports that led to arrests. The guy saved a kid's life last spring when he flagged down an ambulance before a crash scene was even called in." trike patrol mitch

Mitch clocks a white sedan doing 38 in a 25. He does not attempt a pursuit. Instead, he films the license plate and the speed readout from his handlebar-mounted radar gun. By 3:00 PM, the footage is uploaded to the county sheriff’s community traffic complaint portal. And what does Mitch think of all this attention

Then he twists the throttle, the electric motor hums to life, and rolls off toward the horizon—three wheels, one mission, and zero tolerance for rolled stop signs. If you see a slow-moving tricycle with an amber light bar and a very determined expression on its rider’s face, slow down. It’s not a parade. It’s a patrol. And Mitch is watching. He's filed three DUI reports that led to arrests

So, Mitch built his weapon: a heavy-duty reverse trike (two wheels in front, one in the rear) equipped with a 750-watt electric motor, a 48-volt battery, a LED light bar (amber, not red—he’s very particular about legality), and a mounted decal that reads: "Patrol. Observe. Report."

Mitch is a volunteer neighborhood watch coordinator with a very specific niche. While most neighborhood watches rely on sedan patrols or stationary speed cameras, Mitch took a different approach. After a series of near-miss collisions involving children, pets, and delivery vans on his street, he realized that traditional enforcement was too slow. Police were fifteen minutes away. HOAs had no teeth.

Parents have started calling him "The Three-Wheeled Guardian." The local coffee shop gives him free refills. Even the teenagers, after a few stiff conversations, have begun slowing down. Not out of fear of a ticket—but out of respect. Because Mitch doesn't scream. He doesn't threaten. He just shows up, day after day, on that quiet electric trike, holding up a tiny radar gun and raising one eyebrow.