Back in February of 1996 I was invited to go to Alpine, California to attend a special training camp for the top five hopefuls trying for a spot on the first ever Olympic mountain bike team. I was not invited because I was in the top 5, (I was number 6) but because only one of the riders who was actually in the top five wanted to attend. I think history proves that they really didn’t make the right decision.

Being housed in the same hotel as the mountain bikers were members of the US U-23 team. Road bike racers, by and large - especially road bike racers from the USA – are typically a fairly rigid lot, so it was a bit strange to find out that the rider who would be spending his time at the camp living in a Volkswagen camper wasn’t one of the mountain bikers, but rather one of the U-23 guys. I love freaks, so an instant friendship was formed.

That particular freak was a dude by the name of Greg Randolph – AKA Chopper. Chopper would go on to race on the road for Motorola, and then eventually stepped over to the mountain bike side to ride for the powerhouse GT team.

These days, Chopper’s words answer the tough questions at Bike Magazine, and he even became one of the Sh!t Bike alumni recently, after um, illegally joining the Cross Vegas race aboard said Sh!t Bike. During the day, my pal Chopper is some sort of marketing guy for Smith Optics.

If that’s not enough, the dude spent the month of November growing an amazing mustache … for charity. I tried growing a mustache once, but was ready to kill myself, and those around me, after just 45 minutes.

Yesterday, I was contacted by said mustache, and asked to please donate, via sponsorship of this mustache, to a couple of worthy causes – LIVESTRONG, and the Prostate Cancer Foundation – so I did, and being the knucklehead I am sometimes, I even managed to donate twice.

Sports fans, I am hereby asking you to go to the site and donate … please. These are both worthy causes, and my pal Chop is the last place guy on his team. He needs our help.