The window on the driver’s side of the Volvo shuts down. Out Hiking bills, a Fifties one after the other, in the hands of Hans-Hermann Ropers. The car hisses, with a trailer full of hay, 300 pounds. Back on his farm in Nordleda in Cuxhaven, a farmer who now wants to clarify something. No, not Ropers, he was Scrooge McDuck. Even if “The time” have so written what, in type, do not swim in money.
the business with the dried Grass is good, very good even since the drought in the summer. He does not want to deny. On the truck, in front of the Ropers frantically from one leg to the other wobbles, is: “All animals are glad, Ropers supplies hay and straw.” The spell he has concocted in years. In the meantime, he would change it, more suitable it would be after this summer: “All the animals are happy, only Ropers supplies hay and straw.”
He supplied half of Europe with bales
Hans-Hermann Ropers harvesting hay on 550 acres just off the coast, “green oasis, best marching ground,” he says. From here, Ropers supplied half of Europe with bales. The elephants in the animal Park Hagenbeck get his hay, alpacas, horses, between Scandinavia and southern Germany. Even sheiks from Dubai have visited Ropers on his farm. In Nordleda, because the Gold from the country stores in green barns “,” he says. “All need hay, I have it.”
After months without rain the harvest last year was a disappointment. Half as much hay as usual. This is especially true of the German horse owner. Unlike cows, horses can not be fed with corn silage, you have to rely on the scarce hay. The prices are on the rise. In early summer, round bales cost about 40Euro, in the meantime, there are up to 100. A choice of the horse owner does not have. Who does not take precautions, you could soon be left without a feed for the animals. “Many are afraid that they will not make it with their supplies over the Winter,” says Ropers. “The panic is there.” And he benefited from it.
Instead of gold bullion the family meadows
Ropers, 61 years old, white hair, reddened cheeks, bought rushing across the courtyard to a massive hall. On the way he rushes quickly through the family history and speaks so fast, without a break, as he could the air get in between his sets. The grandpa, the dad, the half of the relationship, all they would have preached: “a little bit of money left, not to buy gold bullion, but meadows.” Ropers has kept in mind his sons. “But it is only now that I know what the whole country is good.”
When the hay was scarce everywhere, were not depleted its stocks for a long time. You are not still, in six halls, the bales are stacked. Because Ropers manages such large areas. And because he has taken care of everything. “In may, all have said that as serious As the drought will not be already. I knew It will be bad.“ So he bought the hay, in the whole of the North, as much as he could muster. “A bit small-Small is not enough, I’m a businessman.”
All of The spins said: Yes. You will see different now
Earlier, sold Ropers Apples per Kilo a few cents profit, at one point it was him too little. And then? “If all the potatoes grow, I’m not even. Prefer something no one’s coming.“ Hay, in a big way. Five years ago, Ropers has set everything on a map, more than a Million euros in today drying plant invested, in order to be independent from the weather. And also to be able to in the autumn harvest, when the fields are wet. “All of them have said: The Ropers is stupid. An investment in the hay that’s crazy. See different now.“
Now the printout of the mail stack on his Desk. The phone rings every few minutes. Always new requests. A truck hay please to Bavaria, and Brandenburg. Ropers listed in a checked folder with hundreds of pages. After a few days he needs a new one, then the old book is full with orders from desperate horse owners. Just a customer said to him: “My horses have the money to eat, so you’ll get it.” The spell Ropers has noticed that he finds funny. But he also says: “hay is not to be trifled with, the situation is serious.”
When animals are starving people to thieves
a while Ago Ropers has twelve Bales of hay on a farm in the vicinity of Bremerhaven hazards. The next Morning he got a call, the customer is upset on the phone, why he had picked up the hay again. He had not. The hay was stolen. The last time this happened in lower Saxony. In the autumn, after the great drought, as the bales were still in the fields, piled up the police reports: Six Bales of hay in Rinteln stolen, twelve in Aurich, 25 in Wulften. In Klein Heidorn in Hannover Unknown have mown all the Meadow, and the hay ride.
“If the animals are starving, people are time thieves that are actually no,” says Ropers. The Situation would ease when the Winter fades out mild. “It should be in March again icy, I see black.” At minus degrees, the horses need more feed than usual, says Ropers. “If the Winter lasts long, threatens a small hay-war in the North.” He would have something against it?
Sometimes he jumps into the hay
No answer, Ropers can just. He is looking for money in the hay. One of the Fifties, which has him plugged in, the Volvo driver, it must be through the hole in his pants pocket, slipped. So Ropers as kneels down and runs her hands all over the Straws. He combed through half the pile, then he finds the note. “You have to have luck,” says Ropers. “Just be diligent, it’s not enough.”
It goes on a hall, to today drying plant. A wooden staircase, a narrow railing along, until you see how the hall splits in three deep boxes. During the season, the hay is here, up under the ceiling. Sometimes Ropers then climbs the railing and jumps into the hay. “Feels like a header in the swimming pool,” he says. Ropers float is not in money, but in the hay. Or was it the other way?
