My grandparents sold their ranch when I was a Junior in High School. The people who bought it were oil money from Houston who wanted a weekend retreat.
My sister & a cousin went out there once, about ten years after the ranch was sold. They said the folks were really nice. They also said that the new owners put in an air strip, swimming pool, basketball & tennis courts, a several acre lawn (impractical in the Hill Country), and paved the three mile dirt driveway out to the highway. They also razed the outbuildings & cattle pens.
I had always wanted to show my sons the place where I spent so much of my childhood summers, but now all I have are pictures, and memories of riding in the back of the stock truck, hopping down to open (and close) the big gates between the pastures, helping with the hay baling, and watching my cousins trying to ride Friendly, the horse Grandpa bought for us grandkids.
Friendly lived up to his name; he was like an overgrown puppy that would follow us around. Unfortunately, Grandpa didn't think about the fact that Friendly was a retired, trained barrel racer - one foot in the stirrup and he was off! My cousin Chuck was the only one of us who could mount fast enough to hang on and get Friendly under control.