Red Rock Rebels: Outlaws of Paradox Valley

Paradox is a place that seemed to invite those estranged from society. The West is wide open, and many who crossed it in the 19th century were leaving society behind, at least temporarily. But to be estranged from it is altogether different. Some of the people who came to the Paradox Valley had no place among civilized men and no use for their laws either.

One of those men was Axel Peterson. In 1910 he arrived in Paradox, a hard-drinking drifter in his mid-thirties. He looked like a decent enough sort at a glance, but he was meaner than a rattlesnake in a boot. According to John “Peg-Leg” Foster, one of Axel’s favorite pastimes after leaving the saloon was to walk down to the local schoolhouse and fire shots near the feet of children, just to watch them jump. The local authorities hauled Peterson into court for it more than once, but he always walked free. He scared the witnesses away.

One day, when John Foster was working a farm in the valley, Peterson showed up and started shooting towards Foster's cabin. Foster's wife was alone inside. Foster later said, “I grabbed my rifle, opened the door, and blew the top of his head off.” After a pause and a grin, he added, “The court paid my wife and me two dollars a day apiece for testifying. When it was over, the town bought me a new suit of clothes.”

Photo courtesy of Find a Grave

John “Peg-leg” Foster would even be incorrectly memorialized in the name of a local landmark. A few miles north of Paradox Valley, a mesa came to be called Outlaw Mesa, despite the fact that Foster had moved there with his family to mine for uranium during the radium craze. Once he arrived, he began digging at the site of old mines worked by earlier prospectors.

One day, a man showed up claiming that Foster was claim jumping. The man was a shady character who had rustled cattle before, yet he found a partner in his accusation—another man who had staked claims in the area. The two brought Foster to court, and the case became prominent because of the claims involved.

Foster, known to be a scrupulously honest man, had even gone down to Grand Junction himself to ask the police to lock him up, just to show he wasn’t intimidated. Despite that, the prosecuting attorney attempted to disparage Foster in court for shooting the wretched Petersen years earlier. At one point, the lawyer referred to Foster as “that outlaw from up on the mesa.” And just like that, the name Outlaw Mesa was born.

Looking north towards Outlaw Mesa beyond the walls of Paradox Valley in the distance

Another nearby mesa was also named for an outlaw, a man who purportedly took cattle rustling to a whole new level. According to Greager, a family living near the mesa around the turn of the century had a loyal old milk cow named Ole Bossy. She had been with the family for years and was as much a pet as a cow could be, friendly, familiar, and free to roam the range whenever she wasn’t producing milk for the ranch.

One day, the cattle rustler was driving a herd back to one of his hidden pockets when Ole Bossy wandered into the group. She refused to leave, no matter how hard he tried, so he took her along. The pockets he aimed for were deep depressions in the rock on the mesa, some of them containing grass and water, natural corrals that kept livestock hidden from prying eyes.

Once the small herd was secured, the rustler drew his large bowie knife and set to work cutting the brands from each animal’s hide. He removed the identifying marks, sewed up the wounds, and allowed the animals to graze in the private paddock until the hides healed. Brand-cutting was difficult, and successful healing was nearly impossible, even for the most skilled rustlers. The story itself may even be apocryphal, but it survives in local memory nonetheless.

After the animals had healed, the rustler applied new brands and drove the herd back into Paradox Valley. The family soon found Ole Bossy, perplexed to see her marked with a new brand. Familiar and tame, they recognized her immediately. The sheriff was called, and a careful inspection revealed the faint scars of her original brand, confirming the cow’s true ownership.

The cliffs of Sew Em Up Mesa, how Grimes drove cattle up there I do not know. Photo courtesy of cyccommute from Atlas Obscura

Locals had suspected Eugene Grimes of rustling cattle for years. He spent much of his time up on Sew'Em Up Mesa, but nobody had examined their animals close enough to discover that a man was actually cutting old brands out of the hide. Once the sheriff put the word out, a posse was formed to track Grimes down. However Grimes likely had a friend in town, because he got a half a day's head start on the men. He disappeared down the outlaw trail, never to be seen again.

On June 24th of 1889, Robert LeRoy Parker (better known as Butch Cassidy) robbed the Bank of Telluride along with a few accomplices. For Parker, it was his first bank robbery, the one that would set his name on the tracks towards fame in the Old West. After robbing the bank with his mentor Tom McCarty and Matt Warner, the three men headed over the San Juan mountains to the south, towards McCarty's ranch outside Mancos, CO. It was a 40 mile journey, and the men likely would never have made it if they hadn't had fresh mounts ready to swap. However, this also meant that the men would have to leave their first horses behind.

Tom McCarty owned a white horse named Suzy, one of the fastest around. He had trained her as a racehorse and entered her in local competitions, so the locals knew her well. When the deputies spotted the horse sweating heavily and bleeding from the nostrils, they immediately suspected it was McCarty’s mount.

Hearing the news, Butch Cassidy snapped at Tom: “I told you not to ride that white horse. Now everyone in southwest Colorado will know who we are!” Moments later, the three bandits were off, heading southwest. They barely had time to stuff a few biscuits and extra rounds into their packs before riding out. Their goal was to cross the Colorado border into Utah, nearly seventy miles away, instead of facing the full force of the law.

Tom McCarty in an undated photograph Photo courtesy of Legends of America

Meanwhile, back in Paradox, Lafe Young, the third son of Kan had just turned 17. It was June, and the summer round-up had begun on ranches all around. Lafe rode out to Monticello, UT just west of Paradox for a slight change of scenery looking for a job. Lafe made the fifty mile trek in no time, and he was hired on by the first outfit he came upon just over the state line. Luck was on his side: the foreman worked for a major cattle outfit, so Lafe found himself among a crew of seasoned cowboys.

On June 26th, three men rode into the round-up camp, caked in dirt and trail dust. It was obvious that they had been riding hard, and they asked for a meal and a place to rest. Meanwhile, nobody on the round-up crew had been to town to hear about the bank robbery only 48 hours before. The foreman put the men up, and he even hired them on to help with the cattle. The men accepted but warned the foreman not to be alarmed if they had to leave quickly and collect their pay. The foreman thought nothing of it, and the men stuck around.

The round-up proved to be a productive one, accounting for nearly 70,000 head of cattle when it was all said and done. As an annual event, the cowboys camped in familiar locations, which allowed townsfolk and their wives to visit in the evenings. It also attracted eager photographers, often hired by foreign investors eager to capture the American West before it disappeared. Photographs of cowboys, their gear, and the vast open range commanded top dollar and fascination abroad.

One day, the men came riding into camp for a quick bite and a change of horses before they headed back out. A photographer was in camp, having taken “action shots” of the cowboys, and was invited to join them for supper. To return the hospitality, the photographer offered to take portraits of the cowboys. Lafe, having had his photo taken before, was eager to get another. He took the man up on his offer, and he asked one of the three men who had ridden into camp on the 26th to be in a photograph with him.

Photo courtesy of Howard E. Greager

Unfortunately, this photograph seems lost to the sands of time. I have searched high and low and can find no image connected to the 1889 round-up near Monticello, Utah. Whether Lafe Young ever actually asked Butch Cassidy to pose with him, the world may never know. Howard Greager, my main source, offered no further details about the three men. Their departure from camp or the direction they took remains a mystery.

What we do know is that Butch Cassidy and his gang would go on to use Robbers Roost Canyon as a hideout for the next 15 years. The canyon lies roughly seventy miles northwest of Monticello, a rugged stretch of desert and cliffs. From the cow camp, the three men would have had to cross what is now Canyonlands National Park. Perhaps they stumbled upon the canyon by chance and realized it was the perfect place to continue their outlaw ways.

Paradox Valley and its mesas stretch like a stage set for outlaws and legends alike. Axel Peterson’s terror, John “Peg-leg” Foster’s rifle, Eugene Grimes’ hidden corrals, and the early rides of Butch Cassidy all leave their echoes in the canyons and cliffs. Dust swirls over the trails where cattle were driven, gunfire once rang, and fugitives vanished into the red rock, leaving only stories behind. In Paradox, history waits patiently, daring anyone to walk its trails and test their mettle.

Sources:

Greager, H. E. (2000). The Hell That Was Paradox. Howard E. Greager ; Printed by B & B Printers.