For Jack Roripaugh, the last in a long line of Temecula Valley farmers, these are bittersweet days.

One moment he smiles, thinking about growing up in Temecula when his family's wheat, barley and alfalfa fields blanketed 6,500 acres that stretched from the edge of French Valley to the hillsides west of town.

And then, without warning, he begins to sob softly as his thoughts turn to graders and bulldozers beginning to carve up the farm that sustained his family for three generations.

"I have my days," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "It was a way of life. You were your own boss. When you've been raised on it, it gets to you once in while. Usually I'm OK."

His thoughts then drift back to the coyotes, quail and deer that made the ranch their home. Many will remain, the 68-year-old farmer said proudly, because a 201-acre swath of the ranch along Santa Gertrudis Creek will be designated as open space as 2,015 homes spring up on the property.

"I'm sure my dad would be interested to see it taking place," he said, noting that the family's history on the land began nearly a century ago.

Surrounded by development

Roripaugh leaned over the back of his pickup, an aging, red Chevrolet, its bed crammed with a toolbox, grease gun, soil breaker bar, shovel, rolls of wire and scores of other essentials needed to keep a farm functioning.

The truck is parked on the ranch's high ground, a plateau ringed by mountains that overlooks the creek below.

To the north is a county government complex that houses a jail, 12-court justice center, juvenile hall and sheriff's station. To the west is a spreading sea of homes, some still in the framing and stucco stages. The echoes of backhoes and air-powered nail guns blend into the hum of traffic from busy Winchester Road.

A chain-link fence now rings the family home that once was the center of farm life. The house serves as offices for construction and development staff. A water truck, bulldozer and six huge graders stand nearby, waiting for operators to bring them roaring to life.

The last crop has been harvested, and early this year, escrow closed on the family's final holdings. Ground has been broken at the north end of the ranch, where the first homes will soon be built.

On the south side remains the last vestige of farming: about 3,000 sheep covering a section of the ranch that has been leased to a shepherd for years. Soon the sheep, too, will be gone, and the fields will be silent until heavy equipment begins to gnaw the ground there.

A very different life

Roripaugh recently wandered through the flock and then paused to leaf through a tattered scrapbook filled with family photos and yellowed newspaper clippings, cherished memories that date back to 1912.

Some of the pictures were taken by his mother, Marian Elliot Roripaugh, in the early 1950s. She died one year ago, more than three years after her husband, Leo, passed away.

One of her pictures shows a deteriorating barn, concrete-block shed and four metal silos standing like lonely sentinels at what is now the fast-paced intersection of Winchester and Ynez roads.

Another picture shows Old Town Temecula from the air. Taken when Old Town was the population center of the community, the picture shows about 50 scattered stores and homes.

Sandy Wilkinson and Jack Ramsay, who alternately worked as foreman at the sprawling Vail Ranch, remember those days well.

Vail Ranch, which was once one of California's largest cattle operations, dwarfed Roripaugh Ranch. However, Roripaugh Ranch was one of Temecula's largest farms, and it continued long after the others folded, they said.

They understand Roripaugh's mixed feelings over the end of an era.

Wilkinson said it's hard for newcomers to grasp the changes that have occurred or to imagine life in the Temecula Valley when there were many more cattle than cars. Only the hills are recognizable, he said.

The difficulties and the sale

Roripaugh fondly remembers driving the combine and flying the family's crop-dusting plane. The farm -- which at its heyday was composed of 2,000 leased acres and 4,500 acres owned by the family -- always relied on winter and spring rains to nourish crops.

On average, ample rains fell about once every four years, he noted. The other three years there were typically more prayers than raindrops. Other problems that hampered farming included pesticide-spraying restrictions, trespassing and vandalism, and the approach of new homes from all directions.

There were also fears of going under financially, and over the years, the family sold off chunks of land that included 100 acres that became the Roripaugh Hills subdivision.

"We just parted it off as progress dictated to us," he said.

The farm nearly fell into foreclosure in 1989, when land prices began to plummet. That prompted Leo Roripaugh to agree to sell the last 805 acres to developer Richard Ashby.

"He panicked and sold it way back then," Roripaugh said. Between the sale agreement and the close of escrow, the value of the land skyrocketed, he said.

For now, Roripaugh is working for Ashby, providing security, driving heavy equipment and doing odd jobs on the property. His only sibling, sister June Tull, lives in Alaska. Roripaugh and his wife, Leslie, live in Temecula's Los Ranchitos neighborhood.

Roripaugh said it feels good to still have a role on the ranch. He returns every day to make sure the cantankerous water pump and other support systems are still working.

It's sad, he said, to see a way of life end. But the close of one chapter in the land's history signals the start of another for thousands of new residents, he said.

"I think people need a nice place to live. This is the best place I can think of."

Reach Tim O'Leary at (909) 587-3133 or toleary@pe.com