On the occasion of Women's Day we have a love story for you. This is the story of Elliot Bristow. In 1958, Elliott read the book by Jacek Kerouac "On the Road". Ten years and many thousands of miles later he began to fulfill his dreams and create, let us call it, a record of his trip, which was described by someone as "one man's love affair with the American road." When Elliott Bristow started his adventure and wanted to document it, there were no video cassettes, a gallon of gas cost 33 cents and contact with home was kept up by occasional hand written letters. Does it mean it was easier or harder? Which roads lead to dreams? How much does it cost to make your dreams come true? What are you able to risk and what can you give up? Does anyone now consider that you can live a passion in isolation from continuous (compulsive?) contact and reporting to family, friends, relatives and strangers?