Four hours, and about 150 questions later about the location of my wound, we finally arrived at her father's ranch.
The drive itself was fascinating. The land was so different from anything I had seen before, even different from the land around Fort Hood, and vastly different from my native North Carolina, and Iraq.
I also found out that most Texans (including Susan), considered speed limit signs to be mere suggestions as to the minimum speed they should be doing.
Initially, after we left Corpus Christi, the land was incredibly flat, but several hours later we begin to enter rolling hills with immense pastures.
In North Carolina, my father owned a little over 125 acres, with 75 in fields, and about 50 acres in forest. Of the 75 acres of land we plowed, and planted, every year we tended half that. So, one year we would tend 37 acres, and let the other 38 acres lie "fallow" for a year, to rebuild the soil. The next year, we would switch fields.
Our largest field was about 10 acres, with five to seven acres being more normal. Almost every field was completely surrounded by forests, with narrow farm roads being the only access from one field to another.
In Texas, most of the pastures seemed to be larger than my father's entire farm.
The further we drove, the hilly the country became, and the pastures were filled with lush, green grass.
When I remarked about that to Susan, she explained.
"We've really had a lot of rain this year," Susan said, "normally the fields aren't quite that green, and the grass isn't that heavy."
In North Carolina, we had huge oaks, and towering poplar and pine trees. In Texas, there weren't many trees, and most were rather . . . well . . . low and gnarly, or scrawny. When I asked Susan about the trees, she said they were "mesquite."
By now, we had been driving for about three-and-a-half hours, so I asked Susan how much farther to her Dad's ranch?
"Actually, the land on both sides of the road is his," she said. "We should get to the farmhouse in another 30 minutes."
Wait, I thought. We are already on her Dad's property and it will still take 30 minutes to get to the farmhouse? And Susan wasn't exactly driving slowly.
"Just how much land does your father own?" I asked her.
"I'm actually not exactly sure," she said, "but I think it is about five thousand acres, plus he leases some more."
When I didn't say anything, Susan looked over at me, then burst out laughing before reaching over and pushing my bottom jaw shut.
"Really, Dennis, when your mouth is open like that, it makes you look kind of goofy," she said.
"Five thousand acres?" I finally manage to blurt out, "plus leases more?"
"Look, Dennis," Susan began explaining, "you told me your father has 125 acres, and you farm about 75 acres?"
I nodded yes.
"Let's suppose that he could, instantly, transfer all 50 acres of trees into pastureland, thick with the kind of grass you have up there. How many horses do you think he could raise on that 50 acres?"
I told her I wasn't sure.
"Probably about two horses per acre. Depending on what size barn you have, and how many stalls, possibly even three horses per acre. Let's say 150 horses. Now you would never push it that much, but it would be possible.
"In North Carolina, and places like Kentucky, you talk about horses per acre.
"Down here, we talk about acres per horse. I have been driving northwest, since leaving Corpus Christi. If instead, we had stayed in the valley below Corpus Christi, and driven straight west, or slightly southwest, the land is very different.
"It would be as hot as you know what, with scruffy dry grass, and trees that look like they are dying of thirst. Down there, you would only be able to raise about one horse for every 10 acres.
"Around here, my father can easily raise one horse per five acres, but he never even comes close to that. In fact, he usually tries to maintain that ratio of one horse per 10 acres.
"In North Carolina, 150 horses would require 50 acres. Here, with my father, 150 horses require 1,500 acres! And he has a lot more than 150 horses, plus cattle."
When I didn't say anything, Susan again looked over and started laughing before reaching over and pushing my mouth shut for the second time. She again made a little remark about how "goofy" I was looking.
I stuck my tongue out at her!
She laughed, stuck her tongue out at me, then Susan continued her ranching lesson.
"You also have to remember that, even though we have had a lot of rain around here, there are other places on the ranch where they have had no rain.
"So every year you have to consider that anywhere from 10 to 20 percent of the ranch land cannot be grazed for one reason or another. Plus another 10 to 20 percent simply never will be usable as grazing land, since it is too rocky or hilly."
I was still in shock at the thought of anyone owning 5,000 acres, so the rest of drive kind of passed in a blur.
