“Well-behaved women seldom make history.” I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, and it seems true enough. Earlier this summer while traveling through Utah, I encountered a woman history remembers, an unforgettable woman who, by the standard of her time, was definitely not well-behaved. Let me tell you about her, so you can remember her, too.

Have you heard of Josie Bassett, or perhaps the Bassett sisters—Josie and Anne? If you are a student of history, you may know that the Bassett sisters were closely connected to Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch. In fact, if you search for Josie Bassett on Google, you will see many pictures of Butch Cassidy, or even Josie’s sister Anne, but few of Josie herself. What a shame.

Josie was born in Arkansas in 1874, but when she was just a few years old, her parents moved to Brown’s Park, a mountain valley that spanned northeastern Utah and northwestern Colorado. Her little sister Anne came along in 1878 and was the first white child born in northwestern Colorado. Their mother, Elizabeth Bassett, was fiercely free-spirited, and both girls learned to ride horses and run cattle and rope as good, if not better, than any man.

Everyone was welcome at the Basset family ranch, saint and sinner alike, and it was a favorite stopover for all sorts of travelers. Herb Bassett, the girls’ father, did regular business with outlaws, selling them beef and horses, and perhaps this is how Anne became involved with Butch Cassidy when she was 15.

Both Josie and Anne had relationships with Butch Cassidy at different times, as well as other members of the Wild Bunch. But unforgettable women are not defined by the men in their lives—they play the lead in their own stories. The Bassett sisters were far more than embellishments in Butch Cassidy’s story.

Before you make assumptions about Josie or Anne, know that they were both well-educated. They attended a prestigious East coast boarding school and spent many hours in their father’s extensive library. And they were both considered stunning beauties, although they had different builds and features. These two sisters were just as elegant as they were fierce and independent, and they both chose ranch life over lives that might be characterized as more civilized.

Josie Bassett was married five times. She divorced four husbands and survived one. It’s not entirely clear whether that husband died of alcoholism or if Josie poisoned him, but she was acquitted of the charges at trial. She ran her father’s cattle ranch for many years, while her sister Anne ran her own cattle ranch. Then in 1913, at the age of 39, Josie left her father’s ranch and established her own homestead in northeastern Utah. One of her two sons helped her build a cabin on the land, and she spent the next 50 years living there alone.

Josie was a bootlegger during the Depression, as well as a skilled deer hunter, although technically some of the deer were poached. She was accused of stealing cattle, although she convinced the court that she was framed for that. She made her own clothes and her own soap and grew most of her own food. She lived on her homestead until she was 89, when she broke a hip tending to a horse. She was hospitalized and died a few months later at the age of 90.

Josie’s homestead is now part of the Dinosaur National Monument, and you can still see her cabin, her orchard, and the box canyon where she kept animals. It’s not a place you’ll happen upon by accident, so if you want to see it, you’ll have to go on purpose. Enter the park from the Utah side, not the Colorado side. Then drive past the visitor center and the quarry hall, past the petroglyphs and nature hikes. When you pass Turtle Rock and cross the Green River, the pavement will end, but keep going. It’s a pretty drive, so enjoy the scenery. The further you go, the narrower the road gets, but don’t give up. Josie’s place is at the end, the cabin where she lived with no electricity or running water until 1963.

So, why did I visit her old homestead? I was curious, I suppose. When I saw her cabin on the park map, I did some quick research and was surprised at what I found—a kindred spirit. I, too, have made choices that some people envy and other people don’t understand. I, too, seem brave and fearless to some, incomprehensible to others.

I walked around Josie’s homestead, thinking about the years she spent there living alone, tending animals and a garden, chopping firewood, canning food, making clothes and soap, and doing the myriad of activities required to survive in a place like northeast Utah. I wondered if perhaps Josie felt the same way I feel about some of my choices—I haven’t chosen the easiest path, but I’ve chosen the only one I can bear.

Do you think I’m a woman who is wild and free, who lives life on her own terms? If your answer is “yes,” you aren’t wrong. I go where I want, when I want. I spend my time the way I want, writing books and blogs. I meet interesting people and do interesting things. It’s all true, but it’s not the complete story. In the unabridged version, “wild and free” often translates into “misunderstood and alone.” “Untethered” becomes “adrift,” and “independent” becomes “overwhelmed.” If you think it’s rainbows and roses, don’t forget that rainbows follow storms, and roses have thorns.

We all have blessings, and we all have mountains to climb. That’s as true for me as it is for anyone. I won’t assume that I understand Josie Bassett’s blessings, or her challenges, because I know too well that many of the assumptions people make about independent women are wrong. But today I raise my glass to Josie Bassett, to her memory and her legacy and to every ounce of inspiration we can take from her life, whether she intended to inspire us or not. Thank you, Josie, and cheers!

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