On Thanksgiving Day 2010, while most of us were enjoying our turkey and stuffing, Ben Glattstein set off on a mission to cross the Pacific Ocean solo in a small single-engine airplane. It was a mission he wouldn’t complete. Shortly after takeoff a load shift caused his plane to spiral out of control and Ben lost his life.

As sad as Ben’s passing was, the outpouring of emotion and support was inspiring. You see, Ben was a larger-than-life character in a small world, a young Australian aviator who lived his life to the fullest. We met at Embry Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida, where I soon learned he was the adventurous type who’d do anything for you, the kind of guy you couldn’t help but like from the first meeting.

In his all-too-short life, Ben travelled the world over, flying floatplanes in Northern Canada, crossing the Atlantic in a small plane, being stranded in Jordan, and riding a scooter across Vietnam and Thailand. Ben did more in 27 years than most people will do their entire lives.

He was also my friend, to whom I never got to say goodbye, never got “closure” if there is such a thing. Ben’s voice is often inside my head and thoughts remain of a life lived more adventurously, a life he would have been proud to inspire. I hail from southern Arizona where distances are vast, dirt roads plentiful and riding is year-round. In 2012, having never ridden a motorcycle, I bought a Honda NC700X and made several modifications to it.

Fast forward about a year and a crazy idea is born: Why not get together with my best friends, Jon and Josh, and ride from the Mexican border to Garrapata State Park in Carmel, California, where Ben took his last photo before his ill-fated trip?

We couldn’t just go there directly; instead we’d take backroads and dirt roads all the way, no interstates at all, while camping off the motorcycles. Never mind I had only 3,000 miles under my belt, and the other guys didn’t own bikes and had never ridden on dirt at all—what could go wrong?

Not long after we’d settled on this outlandish plan, I made tracks to Overland Expo and began to spread the word. The support I received was unexpected and inspiring, leaving me with more ideas than ever, as well as contacts including magazine editors and owners of major motorcycle supply companies. Our ride now seemed more possible than ever.

We still had to make sure our efforts fully honored Ben and what he believed in, so on top of all the planning and logistics, we decided to raise money for a scholarship in Ben’s name, one that provides advanced flight training to students at Embry Riddle, the kind of training that saves lives when the chips are down.

Our group grew from three to four as Josh’s friend Scott jumped at the chance and sold his street bike for a DR650 to ride from Denver to the starting point in Sierra Vista, AZ. Not to be outdone for the long-distance award, Josh decided a transcontinental journey was his aim, riding his DR650 from Daytona Beach to Sierra Vista and eventually the Pacific Ocean.

After months of preparation we were blessed by industry support from companies like Twisted Throttle, Wolfman Luggage, Cochise Motorsports, and SENA, who provided S20 and SMH-10 headsets, along with Bluetooth Audio Packs for our GoPros, allowing us to record crystal-clear sound along the way.

We set out on October 11, 2014, beginning our route along the Arizona Backcountry Discovery Route (AZBDR) all the way to the U.S./Mexico border and across the San Rafael Valley of Southeast Arizona. After a day’s break for a repair, we went north through central Arizona, following the BDR. We had to put down in Payson with a bike that wouldn’t start, but after its repair and a “rough” night of camping at Motel 6, we headed north once more where we met our fifth rider, Henry, who brought along a BMW 800GS and some great riding skills and experience.

We made it through the red rocks of Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon on our way to the east rim of the Grand Canyon. Racing the sunset we arrived at Tatahatso Point where the river makes a 180-degree turn, camping just 50 feet from a 2,000 foot drop straight down! After a breathtaking sunrise, we sprinted back to the blacktop and were on our way to exit Arizona via the Vermillion Cliffs along the AZBDR.

We camped near Zion National Park and the following day rode through some of the most remarkable views of the trip. But our adventure for that day had only begun—making it from Utah to Las Vegas without using I-15 is no easy task. The route found us on an old abandoned highway paralleling I-15 for miles of washouts, broken asphalt, and dirt galore. One chasm was 150 feet across and 50 feet deep.

It took an hour of picking up dropped bikes before we finally made it through, only to find ourselves in an expansive desert with night quickly approaching. In the spirit of Ben we went the long way and found ourselves on a rocky single-track that night, with an overheating bike and only dim headlights to show the way. Our SENAs made it possible to safely get out of that mess by keeping us in contact about the trail conditions ahead. Finally, after a couple more hours in the darkness we made it to the blacktop were on our way to Vegas.

After another half-day of wrenching on the bikes and the obligatory Vegas Strip drive-by, we set our sights on Death Valley and what turned out to be our most unexpected three days of the journey. Day One we explored Scotty’s Castle and Ubehebe Crater and quickly learned the hard way that Death Valley is so large that you cannot afford to run out of gas. Day Two took us from Panamint Springs to the old ghost town of Cerro Gordo (a must-see).

But our plan to head down the west side of Cerro Gordo “road” to the Saline Valley Hot Springs quickly unraveled because it took us four hours to slog through four miles of a washed-out river bed. Once again we retreated to Panamint Springs and prepared for a full-on assault of Saline Valley road from south to north the following day. We weren’t disappointed—Saline Valley is the essence of Death Valley in one road, with mountain passes, deep sand dunes and even marshy wetlands.

Through all this abuse our gear held up well until my NC700X threw one of its mods 20 miles from the nearest road. As our SENAs continued to record, we began repairs in earnest before pressing on and being treated to the best sunset of our lives over the Sierra Nevadas at the exit of Saline Valley’s north pass.

After a night spent in Bishop and the beautiful June Lake, we began our approach to Yosemite through the beautiful 10,000-foot Tioga Pass. Though our time in Yosemite was too short, we appreciated its beauty and quickly set our sights on the coast and Garrapata State Park, with an invigorating hike and even more breathtaking views to come.

Our mission to remember Ben Glattstein was realized when we reached the tiny pull-off at Garrapata State Park on the California coast. We couldn’t just end it there, so we hiked the grueling climb to view the sunset at the same spot Ben took his last photo and were rewarded with another incredible sunset, this time over the clouds of the Pacific Ocean.

In all we raised enough money to send two students through training at ERAU, the same classes Ben had taught. I believe we made our friend proud by living more adventurous lives, even if only for a short while. When I think about Ben and our ride, I know that his inspiration lives on. Ben, you always said, “Show me the adventure, and I’ll show you the way,” well you certainly did it this time, my friend. GetOut2Garrapata.org