Editor's note: We're embarking on the Great Texas Buc-ee's Road Trip (#BuceesRoadTrip). Follow along as we discover why the beloved beaver has taken Texas and the South by storm.
I don't really know where the idea came from. One day, I woke up, put my pants on one leg at a time like the rest of society, and thought to myself, Maybe I should visit every Buc-ee's in Texas. Because my heart is bigger than my brain, I decided I should do it all consecutively, within a single week.
Maybe it's because Buc-ee's tends to be one of the few brands that is unimpeachable to Texans, alongside H-E-B and Whataburger. I think I wanted to get to the why of the matter. Why will road-weary travelers hold their bladders until they get to Temple? Why skip a perfectly good kolache at a tiny spot on the way to Houston to instead stop at the home of the Beaver Nugget (and also kolaches)? I figured if I hit all of them — all 34 in the state — I could answer that question.
Before I left, I gave myself just a few simple rules to follow: take a picture of the facade, use the men's room, buy something Buc-ee's branded to eat. What I found out on the road, bouncing from Buc-ee's to Buc-ee's, is that the appeal — and the detraction — of a Buc-ee's is intangible.
Bastrop, the first stop on my Texas Buc-ee's odyssey.
I set out for Houston knowing that I will inevitably end up at the Loser Buc-ee’s. What I don't realize is how many are just like the Buc-ee's in Giddings, the bane of my existence.
That I’ve ever visited the Giddings Buc-ee’s is an example of the fallibility of modern technology. Google Maps sees Buc-ee’s, Google Maps directs me to what is technically a Buc-ee’s, but is truly disappointing in many ways. Perhaps my unending reliance on technology is really to blame, but either way, after an invigorating first stop in Bastrop for the first time ever — it’s both too far from my home to warrant a stop-in and too close to be a stopping point — here I am again. I’m in Giddings.
The Buc-ee's in Giddings, Texas, known to every traveler between Austin and Houston.
Giddings is, for all its shortcomings, perhaps the reason I’ve undertaken this trip. For most of the time I’ve lived in Texas, I’d only ever been to the big, beautiful, city-block-sized Buc-ee’s stores. But Giddings proved to me that there was something else out there, something with the Buc-ee’s logo but without the requisite panache. I had to see all of them: big, small, tweeners, the weird ones. Would I find fishing gear near Galveston? Were the small Buc-ee’s locations confined to small towns?
Between Giddings and Waller, my third stop, I realize I am outside my Austin bubble. I see at least three billboards thanking Greg Abbott for "supporting parental choice," a gun store with a big Punisher logo, and another billboard meant to be seen by people who have lost their agriculture exemption. I can't really relate to anything I'm seeing except for the big beaver in the sky when I pull into Waller, and again when I reach Baytown.
As I make a counterclockwise semi-circle around Houston (the suburbs, to the rest of America) I coincidentally flip back and forth between small stores and large ones. I can start to tell how much I trust a Buc-ee's by what I purchase at each one: In Baytown, a big, shining beauty of a store with Tesla chargers in the parking lot, I opt for a brisket sandwich. In Alvin, a total dud, I buy a tiny sack of Buc-ee’s Gold Nugget Bubble Gum. Yes, I realize that I'm being a snob in purchasing hot food from the Buc-ee's that caters to the Cybertruck crowd.
The Baytown Buc-ee's is the only one I saw with Tesla chargers in the parking lot.
Between my seventh or eighth Buc-ee’s of the day, I begin to visualize my trip as points on a map. The picture in my mind’s eye gives me pause. Normally, Buc-ee’s is an oasis between home and the destination, a distraction from the journey, a place to recharge so that the journey can continue.
But what happens when everything is an oasis? When there is no destination, an oasis has no meaning. Sure, I have a hotel room at the end of the day, but there’s nothing waiting for me there. I decide, impromptu, to create a destination each day, to both give me something to look forward to besides sugary snacks and to imbue Buc-ee’s with meaning again.
Reaching the 10th and final Buc-ee’s of the day, I’m fading. I’m in Pearland, at the second of two Buc-ee’s in the city south of downtown Houston, and it’s a midsized one, which is actually a relief at this point in the day because I’m exhausted and there’s not much to see. At this point I can fully clock a Buc-ee’s of this size in under 15 minutes. A thunderclap outside echoes through the store, and the rain starts to fall in sheets. My saving grace, the anthem that gives me the energy to move it along, starts booming on the speakers inside the store. It’s late-period B-52s song “Roam,” an upbeat paean to the open road. It’s a sign. I grab a bag of chamoy peach rings to enjoy after I hit my destination.
Screwed Up Records & Tapes is a must-visit in Houston.
I’m mere miles from the mecca of Houston rap, Screwed Up Records & Tapes, and I haven’t visited in years. Doubling back in Pearland, I drive into South Houston and pick up a DJ Screw CD — yes, a compact disc — called No Drank. I’m into irony, so I choose this one out of the 300 or so others I don’t already own because it was famously recorded during a codeine drought. It’s pouring as I pull onto West Fuqua Street and mercifully end my day.
Welcome to Clute ... or Lake Jackson, outside Buc-ee's No. 1.
Buc-ee's stores visited on Day 1:
- Bastrop Buc-ee's, 1700 State Hwy 71 East, Bastrop, TX 78602
- Giddings Buc-ee's, 2375 E. Austin St., Giddings, TX 78942
- Waller Buc-ee's, 40900 US-290, Waller, TX 77484
- Cypress Buc-ee's, 27106 US-290, Cypress, TX 77429
- Pearland Buc-ee's, No. 20, 11151 Shadow Creek Pkwy., Pearland, TX 77584
- Pearland Buc-ee's, No. 19, 2541 S. Main St., Pearland, TX 77581
- Alvin Buc-ee's, 780 TX-35, Alvin, TX 77511
- Texas City Buc-ee's, 6201 Gulf Fwy., Texas City, TX 77591
- League City Buc-ee's, 1702 E. League City Pkwy., League City, TX 77573
- Baytown Buc-ee's, 4080 East Fwy., Baytown, TX 77521
T he cult of Buc-ee’s reveals itself in many ways, but perhaps most covertly as the billboards that announce the nearest location as triple-digit miles away. "Icee You’re Craving Our Nuggets" … but y’know, in two hours or so. The brand depends on drivers holding it for a Buc-ee’s urinal, because a Love’s bathroom just won’t cut it.
These billboards, ubiquitous on the I-35 corridor between San Antonio and the Oklahoma border and elsewhere, are nearly absent on the southeast edge of the Gulf Coast. I can find two reasons. One, they're all clustered together between south Houston and Port Lavaca. If you're driving in Angleton or Lake Jackson or Freeport and you're not currently at a Buc-ee's, just wait five minutes.
It's also because, in this writer's humble opinion, Buc-ee's on the Gulf Coast function differently than the big ones we're all used to. Put simply: the company wants you to visit one of three Buc-ee's in Lake Jackson, where the company is headquartered, but it's not going to shell out marketing bucks to get you there, partially because two out of the three in the town aren't anything to write home about.
I reach Lake Jackson after Angleton, excited to walk into the first and second Buc-ee's stores ever built. I leave each one disappointed. Store No. 2 has a mildew smell and three urinals. The one that started the craze, on Oyster Creek Drive straddling Clute and Lake Jackson, is worse: it's cramped, it has no hot food, and the men's bathroom has one urinal. I ask the cashier if I'm standing inside the first Buc-ee's and she smiles knowingly, naming the locations and numbers of nearby stores. To my unending fascination, the third Buc-ee's in Lake Jackson is a brilliant use of space. Instead of clogging a mid-sized store with extra T-shirts, it contains the only Buc-ee's Beanery, with coffee that destroys the rest of the burnt-tasting dreck at the other locations. I ask the barista if this is the only Buc-ee's with an espresso bar and she also smiles knowingly, but for a different reason.
The Buc-ee's Beanery in Lake Jackson is a revelation.
Before noon, I have hit six Buc-ee's, each one small and a bit sad. The ride from Brazoria to Port Lavaca down FM 521 — one I'm dreading because it puts me so far out of the way — is remarkable. I pass mobile homes next to McMansions adjacent to rusted-out, abandoned shacks. I see homemade "Trump Won" flags on dilapidated and sparkling new homes alike. I gaze upon a barn, completely engulfed by moss and look out across the swamplands, dotted by gnarled trees. Texas contains multitudes, and the constantly shifting landscapes never cease to amaze me, even as I'm salt-bloated and my teeth ache from Buc-ee's food. But I trudge on, quickly dipping in and out of a disappointing Port Lavaca Buc-ee's as storm clouds darken above me. I turn the car around and book it back across the bridge.
Lightning bolts extend across the Lavaca Bay, and for the first time I am seriously down on this hair-brained idea. But I make it back up to the Houston area, and am rewarded with some lovely large Buc-ee's stops along the way. In Wharton, the men's room is on the left side, but my zombie brain pushes me to the right, where the men's bathroom is at every other large Buc-ee's before catching myself. I ask the cashier what it was like having Jackass star Steve-O visit the store a few months prior. Her face drops.
"I was working the morning shift that day," she says. "I had just left."
Taking her for someone in her late teens or early 20s, I foolishly consider that Steve-O may not carry the same type of import that it does for old millennials like myself and ask if she would have stayed late if she knew he were visiting that day.
"Um, yeah!" she says. "It's Steve-O!"
The Katy Buc-ee's had so much parking that it emboldened customers to do things like this.
The storm picks up again as I race toward Katy, knowing that I only have two more. I contemplate skipping Eagle Lake and doubling back toward it in the morning as I pass my hotel in Sealy. The hotel looks disappointing enough for me to solider on, and I've already come this far. I travel to both, grabbing snacks for later — I'm 95% sodium at this point — and check into my hotel.
Another destination is in order beyond my disgusting hotel room in Sealy and I land on the Saddleback Saloon Bar & Grill. Built in 1886, this dive bar and venue is on the Texas Register of Historic Places, has cheaply priced whiskey, and food that does not have a beaver logo on it. Settling into my seat at the bar, I let the sodium course through my veins, chasing it with a boilermaker. I'll be hungry again someday, I think. And then it hits me: I have to eat; the body requires it. A little after 8, I try to order a Frito Pie and was rebuked by the apologetic bartender, who informed me that the kitchen has just closed. I briefly consider pulling a "Tommy want wingy" before tucking my tail between my legs and ordering a salad from the nearby Whataburger drive-thru. I cannot recommend this practice.
Buc-ee's stores visited on Day 2:
- Katy Buc-ee’s, 27700 Katy Fwy., Katy, TX 77494
- Eagle Lake Buc-ee’s, 505 E. Main St., Eagle Lake, TX 77434
- Wharton Buc-ee's, 10484 US-59, Wharton, TX 77488
- Richmond Buc-ee's, 1243 Crabb River Road, Richmond, TX 77469
- Angleton Buc-ee's No. 21, 931 TX-274 Loop, Angleton, TX 77515
- Angleton Buc-ee's No. 25, 2304 W. Mulberry St., Angleton, TX 77515
- Brazoria Buc-ee's, 801 N. Brooks St. #10, Brazoria, TX 77422
- Lake Jackson Buc-ee's No. 2, 101 FM 2004, Lake Jackson, TX 77566
- Lake Jackson Buc-ee's No. 1, 899 Oyster Creek Drive, Clute, TX 77531
- Lake Jackson Buc-ee's No. 29, 598 TX-332, Lake Jackson, TX 77566
- Freeport Buc-ee's No. 8, 1002 N. Brazosport Blvd., Freeport, TX 77541
- Freeport Buc-ee's No. 7, 4231 TX-332, Freeport, TX 77541
I wake up with a nagging thought, but I brush it (and my graying, overlong hair) aside and start driving toward Madisonville, Texas.
The thought is correct, and it chews at the back of my brain as I wind through some of the gnarliest, most country backstreets I’ll see on this trip. Dogs — who, by the way, I love unconditionally — flood the pockmarked streets of Burleigh, which sounds like one of those newfangled baby names that everyone is filling their diapers over. I love dogs (have I mentioned that?) and yet I wish they were not in the middle of the street upon which my sensible SUV thuds along.
I pass enough Baptist churches between Hempstead and Madisonville that I run out of fingers and toes. I am in the tomato soup. I am also running out of gas, and there is nothing in sight for miles. Finally finding a gas station, I pull my phone out and recoil in horror. I have missed a Buc-ee’s. What’s worse, it’s 120 miles in the other direction, in Angleton, on the same street as another Buc-ee’s that I visited yesterday. I'll figure it out later, for now, it's the metroplex or bust.
In Madisonville, I find a country-fried store, blaring new country and proudly displaying swaths of maroon swag. Texas A&M gear aside, this is a nice beginning after my Gulf Coast excursion. In an act of defiance, I skip the carb-heavy biscuit and meat-filled brisket taco for a keto-friendly (I'm not keto, just filled with bread) sausage-and-egg bowl. I must be the first person to ever try it in Madisonville.
As I curl northwest around DFW, hitting Ennis, Terrell, and Royse City, the Buc-ee's billboards reappear. One just says: "Do It For the 'Gram," which just feels lazy. Be more specific or make a pun, even if it's cringe. Of course, it starts raining again on my way to Ennis.
In Ennis, I ask a cashier if celebrities ever drop in.
"Only TikTok stars," she laments.
I ask another in Fort Worth the same thing. We start talking about Steve-O dropping in at the Wharton location.
"I don't even know where that is!" she cried. "Why not us?”
I end the day hitting seven Buc-ee's, all of them top-notch locations, all of them large, and Melissa, a newer store northeast of Dallas, coming into view as perhaps the best store in Texas. I interview three teens from the McKinney area, Yazmin, Ivan, and Stephanie, asking them why they like the Buc-ee's in Melissa. They all like the brisket, the T-shirts for sale, and how clean it is.
"This is not a gas station," Yazmin tells me. "This is like, a supermarket."
It's around this time I realize that many of the folks at the larger Buc-ee's might simply live nearby. I must investigate further. After Melissa is Denton and Fort Worth, the best 1-2-3 combo of the trip. Back at my hotel, which is weirdly in a strip mall, I figure I need another destination to complete my day.
I hop in a Lyft headed for Nickel City, the Fort Worth outpost of one of my favorite Austin bars. Yes, another destination that involves beer and whiskey, but I'm sure the kitchen will have a burger for me. The driver and I start chatting with my driver about my trip.
"Truckers hate Buc-ee's, man," he says. He used to drive a tour bus for metal bands, so he knows the road. I realize that only one or two of the Buc-ee's that I've stopped at — and only smaller ones, mind you — have had an area for trucks to fill up.
The Nickel City outpost in Fort Worth.
At Nickel City, everything kind of looks the same as the bar I've frequented too many times to count in Austin. But I'm not in Austin, and like the Buc-ee's I've visited on this trip, the bar takes on the personality of the city. Fort Worth is fancy now, and the bartender is doing moves straight out of Cocktail. Everyone except me seems to be on a date. I'm ready to go home, but I have three more (very important) locations to visit.
The eye in the sky.
Buc-ee's stores visited on Day 3:
- Ennis Buc-ee's, 1181 Creechville Road, Ennis, TX 75119
- Terrell Buc-ee's, 506 I-20, Terrell, TX 75160
- Royse City Buc-ee's, 5005 I-30, Royse City, TX 75189
- Melissa Buc-ee's, 1550 Central Expy., Melissa, TX 75454
- Denton Buc-ee's, 2800 S. Interstate 35 E., Denton, TX 76210
- Fort Worth Buc-ee's, 15901 N. Fwy, Fort Worth, TX 76177
I 'm pondering the Buc-ee's statue as I roll out of bed in Fort Worth. I have spent so much time in various Buc-ee's that the beaver has now burrowed his way into my dreams. What appeared to me initially as a place to take selfies — hell, that's what I've done at almost every one — has now shown itself to be so much more.
First off, as I noticed at the gargantuan Buc-ee's locations in the metroplex, it's a signpost. These big-box Buc-ee's are so expansive that one often forgets where the car is. I know I do. People like to park close to the beaver statues so they don't get lost.
Taking a selfie with my only friend on the road.
The beaver statue is a meeting spot, selfie opportunity, and signpost for parking.
Folks also just ... hang out by the statues. During my trip, I witnessed multiple friend groups gathering at statues, chatting, looking at their phones, throwing their arms around it like it was an old friend. The statue is a totem for what I believe to be the reason that Buc-ee's is so fervently adored, at least by the folks who haven't abandoned it after learning of its owner's right-wing leanings. Buc-ee's love extends beyond the physicality of the body's necessity for the intake of calories and the expulsion of waste. It's a psychological love, a combination of nostalgia and the brain's attraction to familiarity. Buc-ee's is embedded in the same part of the mind that gives the body frisson when we hear a favorite song from our youth.
As I check out of my hotel, I make small talk with the clerk, noting that I'm glad it won't rain today for once. She just laughs.
I had been enjoying the blackout curtains in my room and missed another downpour, which looked like it might continue. Wonderful. It's at least two hours from Fort Worth to the nearest Buc-ee's on I-35, the one in Temple, and because I want to eat something hot there, I starve myself as I drive south.
The Temple Buc-ee's is a nice one, but is overly crowded for how large it is.
Temple is big and beautiful, but it's positively slammed at 1 p.m. It's the lunch hour, but still. This is the most crowded big Buc-ee's I've been in yet. Because I am positively famished, I opt for a Texas Cheesesteak Burrito, dash back to the car, and unwrap the foil. It has been misfiled, my first food snafu at the convenience store chain coming at my 30th stop. Instead, it's a chicken burrito, which is quite tasty. I'll eat anything at this point, but I'm vindicated when, two days later, a friend tells me that I lucked out: the Texas Cheesesteak Burrito is no bueno.
A cramped corridor in Luling.
Luling is next, and it's another big one, but it's weirdly constructed: long and thin, with a bottleneck near the bathrooms. At this point, I'm just happy to see something different. I ask the cashier about the new Buc-ee's coming to Luling and he confirms that it's going to be even larger than the New Braunfels store. They're going to build it in the parking lot, which makes sense, because it's enormous. This one's kind of a bust, partially because I am so ready to be home, partially because I have the supposed top spot — New Braunfels — coming next, and also because this store just has a bad vibe.
As I set out for my final stop, I have a sneaking suspicion that the New Braunfels Buc-ee's is going to be the best one, but I don't let it cloud my judgement. I cannot let the superlative of "World's Largest Convenience Store" sway me. That all changes when I walk through the doors of the 66,335-square-foot snack mecca. It's incredible, and diverse, and everyone seems joyful. The snacks are plentiful, I can park anywhere I want, and the bathroom is glorious, a word I never thought I'd use to describe a bathroom.
I interview two college students, one from Texas State and one from UTSA. They both live in New Braunfels and visit the Buc-ee's two or three times per week.
"It's so big, it's so clean, the staff here is suuuuper nice," Jazlin says, when I ask, simply, why. They describe what they buy: barbecue, T-shirts, even home decorations.
I ask how the barbecue stacks up to the local joints. We are, after all, close enough to some barbecue hotbeds in Austin, Lockhart, and Luling. Does Buc-ee's compare?
"Oh yeah," Alex says. "It's better than some of the local places. I come here for the barbecue."
New Braunfels has an extra clothing annex.
As I check out at my final Buc-ee's — the best Buc-ee's — I feel a sense of accomplishment, but not of longing. I have a destination: home. But as I fly up I-35, I can't help but see a familiar friend in the sky. I swear that, as the sky turns blue, one of the clouds looks like the Buc-ee's beaver, floating in front of me, pointing me home. I can't escape — and all I can think of is my lonely missed Buc-ee's in Angleton. Should make a beeline for the coast?
Seeing the beaver wherever I go.
Maybe I see the figure in the clouds because I want it to be an omen. Or maybe I'm like the rest of you Texans now: completely and utterly beaver-pilled.
Buc-ee's stores visited on Day 4:
- Temple Buc-ee's, 4155 N. General Bruce Drive, Temple, TX 76501
- Luling Buc-ee's, 10070 I-10, Ottine, TX 78658
- New Braunfels Buc-ee's, 2760 I-35, New Braunfels, TX 78130
Chris O'Connell covers all things Austin. He can be found @theechrisoc.