That was what his wife said as she left the day before. Pack her things and got the first stage coach to the train depot. She was heading back to live with her parents in Boston. His $1 a month salary to maintain the monument badlands was just not going to cut it anymore. He stayed, she left. John Otto would continue to drill and strategically place dynamite to create the trail that would rise up from the canyon floor like a serpent. The next morning as he disrupted the peaceful valley morning with yet another string of explosions, the noise must have just seemed that much louder.
I traced my finger through the long drill marks in the rock as I stood along the trail taking a rest from the morning run. 100 Years later, I would be standing here admiring the sunrise from the Grand Valley from the trail built by Mr. Otto himself. He had a vision for exactly what I was enjoying this morning. A place where people from all over the world could come and admire the beauty and majesty of God’s great works.