Bike theft in Utah is ‘off the charts,’ cyclists say, with bolder thieves and less police enforcement

Editor’s note • This story is available to Salt Lake Tribune subscribers only. Thank you for supporting local journalism.

John Warnock held a cup of coffee in one hand and pointed out his security arsenal with the other.

A tangle of cable locks secure the chain-link fence to his Salt Lake City yard. He’s installed three motion-detection cameras and automatic lights. Posted signs warn would-be thieves. His bike-lock keys fill three keychains, so many that he often forgets which ones go to what. But that’s the price you pay for peace of mind.

“Somebody coming back here trying to try again for the candy shop, it’s like, ‘Yeah, no,’” Warnock said. “It’s locked tight.”

Over Father’s Day weekend this year, someone stole four bikes out of Warnock’s yard. They were old but valuable performance bikes, meant for speed, distance or traversing mountain trails. Warnock said he and his girlfriend often didn’t take them out around town, fearing they would be stolen.

But that Thursday night, the couple pulled the bikes out of their shed so friends could join them on a group ride. When they got home later, Warnock was too tired to put them back, instead stashing them in an alcove in his backyard, covered with a tarp. He thought they would be safe there, out of sight, until they returned from a weekend trip.

They weren’t. Warnock filed a police report and listed the bikes as stolen online. He drove around trying to find them, but he never got any leads.

He’s not alone.

Bike theft is a growing problem in Utah, cyclists say. What was once thought to be a crime of opportunity — someone takes an unlocked bike, or steals one out of an open garage — seems to have expanded to a bigger, more organized criminal enterprise as demand for bikes has skyrocketed, making them more expensive and harder to find. Understaffed police departments also have been less proactive in solving these property crimes, instead focusing on violent crime, officials say.

Dave Iltis, the editor of Cycling Utah — Cycling West, has worked in cycling advocacy for three decades. He personally monitors the Utah Stolen Bicycle Listings page on Facebook, where people post almost daily asking others to keep an eye out for their stolen bikes, or flag bikes they spotted for sale that may have been stolen.

Over the last two years, Iltis said it seems like the number of bike thefts has gone “off the charts.”

Thieves are breaking into locked sheds and garages. Burglars are scaling balconies and swiping them from inside homes and apartments. Bike racks on parked cars in hotel parking lots don’t stand a chance.

“There’s just,” Iltis said, “endless streams of bike theft reports.”

What the data says

Statewide law enforcement data from the Department of Public Safety show that the overall number of bikes reported stolen has decreased since 2013, while the value of stolen bikes has surged.

Even from 2019 to 2020, when bike thefts increased across the country, statewide numbers show a decline in reports — from 2,114 to 1,958. But the value of the bikes stolen jumped from $1,635,690 to $2,371,412, the data shows.

Bryan Hance, co-founder of online bike registration website Bike Index, said he’s skeptical of any reports from police showing a decline in bike theft. He said it’s more likely that people aren’t reporting all thefts to law enforcement, perhaps because they don’t think law enforcement will be able to help, or because the victim already received an insurance payout and it’s a hassle to log the theft.

Project 529 Garage, a website where people can register bikes and report thefts, reported that about 1 in 5 victims report bike theft to police.

Self-reported Bike Index data shows thefts increased dramatically from 2019 to 2020 in Salt Lake City, surging from 108 reports to 304. The database isn’t as popular in Provo and Ogden, but self-reported numbers also jumped in both cities.

Provo police data shows 176 bicycles were reported stolen in 2019, but 241 thefts were reported in 2020. So far, just over 200 bikes have been reported stolen this year, according to data obtained by The Tribune. Recoveries are rare, the data shows.

Hance said similar spikes were seen across the country in 2020. The jumps coincide with an increased demand for e-bikes and cargo bikes that predates COVID-19, along with a rise in demand for bikes that the pandemic triggered, he said.

New bikes started flying off shop shelves, so the value of used bikes grew as people tried to avoid public transportation or spend more time outside. All this as many lost their jobs or faced economic hardships, Hance said, and police lost staff or changed enforcement priorities to prevent coronavirus exposure.

“You put all those factors together, and it just meant it was just open season on bikes,” Hance said.

Police admit the problem

At a recent Salt Lake City Bike Advisory Committee meeting, committee chair Martin Cuma asked Salt Lake City police about the apparent rise in bike theft.

”Personally, I would like to see some more enforcement,” Cuma said. “It just seems like the reason why people are doing this is because they don’t feel like there is any retribution for it.”

In response, Lt. Jenn Diederich said, ”I’m going to be very honest with you, sir, because I’d rather just tell you the truth: You’re probably right. Our proactive enforcement is down.”

She said the department has lost several detectives since 2020.

“Our proactive work, that’s what the guys want to be doing. They want to be out there doing that. That’s what I did. But right now,” she said, “we are primarily reactive, and I apologize for that.”

In Provo, bike thefts are among the city’s most prevalent crimes, Sgt. Nick Dupaix said. But most calls come in hours or days after a bike was stolen. There’s often no footage of who took it, or only grainy doorbell-camera clips.

When officers do find a stolen bike, it’s usually because they stopped someone on a bike and ran its serial number through the National Crime Information Center database. But if the bike isn’t registered, Dupaix said there’s not much police can do.

What to do if your bike is stolen

This summer, Iltis said he parked his bike at Sugar House Commons and came back later to find its front wheel, seat and seat post stolen.

He walked around the area to look for the parts and spotted his wheel in an encampment near the freeway. He grabbed it and continued around the block. Half an hour later, he said someone rode by on his seat post.

“And so,” Iltis said, “I stopped him, and said, ‘I’d like my seat and seat post back.’ And he didn’t say anything and obliged.”

Iltis said it’s rare people are this lucky.

Bike Index’s numbers show that since 2016, fewer than 10% of bikes ever reported stolen are found each year. As of early November, there are still 1,397 bikes reported stolen in Salt Lake City that haven’t been found over the years, according to Bike Index.

Data from Provo doesn’t paint a better picture. More than 70% of the 2,725 bikes reported stolen to police still haven’t been recovered.

SLCPD Sgt. Joshua Ashdown said the best way to boost the chances of getting your stolen bike back is to register it online — and include the serial numbers.

Ashdown said it’s “mind-boggling” how few people know their bike’s serial numbers. That’s why bike registration is so important.

U-locks are better than cable locks. But targeted thieves, Ashdown said, “are going to have equipment to basically defeat any lock that you put out there.”

Iltis likes using Bike Index to register bikes because people outside of law enforcement also can browse it to help find recover bikes. Some have made a “Liam Neeson in Taken”-esque hobby out of doing just that, Hance said.

“There are a lot of groups who, first thing every morning, people grab their cup of coffee (and) they do two things,” Hance said. “They open a browser window to Bike Index. They open up a browser on Craigslist and OfferUp. And they’re just looking at all the bikes for sale, and they’re just finding victims left and right.”

Recovery sometimes means moving on

Shelby Knudson, of Sandy, spent weeks scouring online classifieds for her bikes, which were stolen out of her open garage in July. Her friends offered to drive her around to search. People suggested pawn shops.

But her bikes never resurfaced. Now, each time she uses her garage, she waits in her car long enough to watch the door close.

“If there’s a silver lining,” Kundson said, “(it’s) I got a new bike. But still, it’s not the same as my old bike. I wish I had that old bike. I really liked it.”

Warnock, whose four bikes were stolen from his yard, said his first instinct was to turn inward and start questioning his neighbors.

“We were so sad from this thing that it just really took the wind out of our sails,” Warnock said. “We thought about, ‘Do we want to move?’”

Others see high-dollar bikes around homeless encampments, or riders wearing casual clothes, looking a bit scruffy, and quickly draw conclusions.

“I know I’m making an assumption,” one post in a bicycle group last year read, “but the bike seemed out of place considering the rider and where it was spotted.”

Dupaix with Provo police said he sees a correlation between homeless populations and bike thefts, at least with crimes of opportunity. But the more brash larcenies appear to be perpetrated by organized groups. Ashdown added that while he understands that people sometimes find stolen bikes at camps, the homeless population is an easy scapegoat.

In the end, Warnock said the same community he started to question helped him get over the theft.

He hasn’t exactly replaced his stolen bikes. But he does have some new-to-him bicycles, which he got for cheap — or free — from people he met online. They bring him more joy than the nicer ones did, he said.

He and his girlfriend ride them around town with ease, enjoying more jaunts together because they aren’t as anxious about losing them.

One — a favorite acquisition — isn’t exactly a bike. It has three wheels, a cushioned saddle and a backrest with a rear basket, which holds a plastic tote that he often fills with trash.

He takes his “Trash Bike,” as he calls it, on short spins as he picks up neighborhood litter, trying to imbue some good in the world after something bad was done to him. He’s even taken it on the same weekly group ride he did with friends earlier this year, just before his bikes were stolen.

“People were asking,’ How did you start doing this?’ And I’m like, ‘Well, somebody stole all my bikes,’” he said. “And they’re like, ‘You started picking up trash because of that?’”

“I’m like, ‘Well, yeah, because that sucked,’” he continued. “‘So I wanted to do something that didn’t suck.’”

— Tribune reporter Jessica Miller contributed to this report.