Listen to this Article
Be prepared! When speaking with Torsten Gross a resident of Connecticut, USA, founder of Just Hands Foundation, you’re stepping into a conversation with someone who sees the world a bit differently — in the best possible way. Gross is a C6 quadriplegic who has found ways to transcend physical limitations through racing, scuba diving and adventure travel. He is breaking barriers, not by demanding changes in the environment, but by shifting his perspective and finding his own path.
What inspired Gross to start Just Hands Foundation? He says, “I needed to share my experience of freedom and being equal to able-bodied people with my community—the hand-control driving community.” Gross discovered a gap—the sheer joy and sense of equality he felt behind the wheel of a track car wasn’t something everyone had access to. That realization became the fuel for Just Hands, which focuses on performance driving, not competitive racing, giving others the chance to experience the thrill of mastering the track.
Gross himself races all over the country, from Lime Rock in Connecticut where he trains, to iconic tracks like Circuit of the Americas and Watkins Glen. His vehicle of choice? A Porsche Cayman S. “It’s the car that fits me,” he says with a smile. But don’t be fooled — his sense of adventure isn’t limited to driving. He is also a rescue scuba diver and a veteran of 12 marathons (which he did in 12 months).
Torsten does not waste time on self-pity or regret. With his energetic spirit and sharp sense of humor, when he isn’t racing, you will find him diving with sharks in the Turks and Caicos, drift diving in West Palm Beach, mountain biking in British Columbia, exploring the waters of Curaçao, skydiving and other adaptive adventures in Belgium, Germany and elsewhere. But racing is his ultimate passion. It unites everyone who gets a thrill being behind the wheel. “Disabled or able-bodied, when in the car, we’re all equal,” he says confidently. His wife joins him on some of these escapades—whether it’s going on a hike while he hits the track, or diving alongside him in exotic locales.
Travel, for Gross, is an exploration not just of new places but of new ways to adapt and enjoy life. While he will call ahead to ensure accessible accommodations, when he arrives, if it is not as expected, he’ll simply adjust his plans, handling it all with a level of grace that’s as refreshing as it is rare. He points out that not everything is under our control, and that’s okay. “There’s not only one way of doing something,” he says. If things don’t go as planned — like finding the wrong car waiting for him at the airport — he adapts. He finds another way, whether that means taking a taxi or finding a different hotel with a roll-in shower.
But what’s most striking about Gross isn’t just his adaptability. It’s his perspective. He doesn’t view every bump in the road as a challenge specific to his disability. He sees them as part of the human experience. “Everyone has a wheelchair,” he says, using the term metaphorically. For some, it’s depression. For others, it might be grief or an emotional struggle. “We all have something that we believe holds us back.” Gross believes that while it’s easy to get angry when things don’t go our way, it’s far more powerful to extend grace—to ourselves and others.
His stance on ableism is equally thought-provoking. He acknowledges that while ableism exists, much of what people attribute to it might simply be a lack of knowledge or experience. “Most people aren’t trying to ruin your day because you are disabled,” he explains. “They just don’t know what you need.”
And perhaps that’s the crux of Gross’s message — understanding, communication, and patience. He advises, “It’s not about being angry when the world does not bend to your needs, but finding ways to navigate it on your terms, while still respecting the beauty and integrity of the world around you.”
Gross reminds us that life — whether on four wheels or two legs — is what you make of it. And with a bit of patience and a lot of passion, it’s always possible to find a way forward.
His philosophy? Focusing on what’s possible, instead of dwelling on limitations. It’s about shifting the mindset from “I can’t” to “What can I do?”—something that transforms not just travel experiences but life itself.
“There’s something beautifully radical about choosing joy and possibility,” he expressed, “even when things don’t go as planned—the hotel’s accessible room isn’t available, or you’re stuck on a plane for 45 minutes waiting for someone to come help—you get to decide whether those moments will define the whole experience. And to some degree, it’s a rebellion against a world that expects us to complain, to magnify the negative.”
Torsten believes in “taking ownership of our experiences, good or bad. If we allow the inevitable bumps in life to consume us, then we’re just giving up that control. And the thing is, whether you’re walking or rolling, life is bumpy for everyone.”
He continues, “What your readers will hopefully take from my story is that happiness, travel, adventure, and success aren’t reserved for the privileged few, or the able-bodied. It’s about leveraging the power of mindset, creativity and adaptability. Maybe my experiences will spark something in them—maybe not racing cars, but perhaps pursuing that art class they’ve been hesitant to sign up for, or finally taking that trip to a place they never thought accessible. Because, ultimately, the one thing I want readers to remember is this: If you can figure out the how, everything else is just logistics. Whether you’re diving with sharks in Turks and Caicos or finding joy in a simple coffee run—the possibilities are endless. Here’s to shifting perspectives, one adventure at a time!”