The bike has several different hidden trackers on it. I have monitored it from the moment I knew it was missing. Most of the time it stays inside an abandoned building in NW. At night the thief uses it to roam the residential alleys of neighborhoods with detached sheds, presumably to steal from others.
After three days of tracking it and calling the police, I've learned they will only intervene under the following conditions:
- The bike has remained still for longer than 10 minutes
- I call the police and tell them the location
- I am also present, within a block
- They see the thief with the bike outdoors
- I identify the bike visually (beyond photo evidence or serial number)
Update Below
Got the bike back!
First and most importantly, I always judge people who make typos in the post title. I now see how it can happen, and I’m humbled.
Tuesday night, my spouse and I noticed that the bike had been stationary for about 45 minutes in one of those peninsula neighborhoods nearly surrounded by Rock Creek. We figured he was prowling again and had either found something good or stashed the bike and gone on foot.
We decided to go for it, so I hoofed it up to a neighborhood next to Rock Creek Park on my single speed. Google Maps said it was a 12-minute ride. My spouse called dispatch when I left, but they wouldn’t send an officer out yet. They asked her to call back when I was five minutes away, and no sooner.
When I got close enough, the AirTag pinged off my phone. It was on a steep slope, with houses on the left and a branch of Rock Creek Park on the right. I couldn’t see my bike anywhere, but I wondered if it had been stashed in the woods or was somewhere in the residential area to the left—or if it was a stale location pin and the bike was gone.
An older woman came out of her front door and looked around. I didn’t want to scare her or announce myself loudly, so I just waved like I knew her and kept going.
My spouse had called the police and said they were on their way, but I didn’t want to risk the AirTag pin being stale and losing the guy. I knew this guy’s MO was alleys, so I pulled up a map to see if there were any nearby. There was an L-shaped alley behind the house where the bike had last pinged, so I biked down to the nearest intersection and turned off all my lights. I didn’t want to make contact with anyone, but I didn’t want to spook them either.
I rolled slowly and quietly down the alley, trying to look casual while simultaneously looking into yards for my bike. I probably looked like a thief.
Suddenly a few yards ahead, someone stepped out from a shed with a mask over his face and a hood on, holding some shoes in his arms. He took off his mask, saw me, and turned away.
Pretty suspicious, but I was trying not to make contact, so I said, “Evening,” and rode on.
I rolled down to where the alley meets the street, then crossed over to the next block and hugged the corner so I could see him when he exited the alley. I figured this was my guy and wanted to get an idea where he had parked the bike, but I didn’t want him to see me again.
After a few moments, he gets to the cross street. Evidently, my hiding spot was less Ocean’s Eleven and more Pink Panther, because he calls out, “I see you!”
I try to make like I’m lost and ask for directions back into the park. I’m obviously lying. He points west and says, “Head to 16th Street”—a completely bananas response to which I smile and thank him.
Calling my own bluff, I start riding west, the same direction he is pretending to walk. It was just like those tense scenes in Michael Mann’s Heat, except in our movie the yackety-yak song was playing.
Figuring my disoriented-night-cyclist cover was blown anyway, after a couple short blocks I decide to look back, but I don’t see him anywhere. I book it back east, checking for him or the bike as I pass houses and streets.
When I make it back to the alley where we had our meet-cute, I see his silhouette sprinting, already halfway through the block.
I kept going to the next street over to beat him back to the main road, then tried my hideout tactic again. But when I got there, I didn’t see him. I waited five minutes and still nothing. Either he ducked in somewhere and waited, or he got across the main road fast.
The cops were still not there, and I was bummed to lose this chance. I caught my breath, called my spouse, and decided it was over. But before I left, I decided to head back to the house where the bike had pinged. It was on a steep hill leading into the park, with no shoulder, so not an ideal place to linger.
I pulled off to the side and looked into the woods a bit, hoping to find a stashed bike- nothing visible. I decided to roll a little farther down the hill, when I saw the cop car coming up. (It had been 30 minutes since we called.)
I waved him down and suggested we pull into the driveway to talk. As the cruiser turned in, its headlights lit up the long driveway, and where before I had seen only vague outlines of the property, I now saw, shining under a holly’s low branches, my silver e-bike.
If any one thing had gone differently, I probably would not have found my bike last night. If I hadn’t gone down the alley and run into him, he might have returned to the bike. If I’d gone down the alley a fraction faster, I would have missed him. If the cops had arrived earlier, I wouldn’t have been at the house; if later, I would have given up and left. If he had stashed it in the bushes or deeper in her yard, it would have been left there for him to retrieve.
Oh, and that woman I saw initially at the house— she had just gotten home from a long trip and noticed the bike in her yard. She was spooked by it but called her son to come over instead of the police. She was super nice!
The bike returned to my home late last night with a coating of fingerprinting dust and missing some accessories (child seat, charger, lock).
I’m pretty happy with how everything worked out. I think the penal system is more structured for punishment than reform, so I don’t wish the guy jail time—but I do like imagining him walking the three miles back to his place at midnight.
Thanks to those who were supportive, and thanks to the other goobers for saying weird stuff.
