Our First Trip to Buc-ee’s (A.K.A. The Disney World of Gas Stations)

Friends. Countrymen. Casual readers who stumbled here while Googling "what the heck is Buc-ee’s." Gather 'round.

Let me tell you the tale of our family’s first journey to the mythical land of... a gas station. But not just any gas station. No. This was Buc-ee’s—the much-hyped, larger-than-life, Texas-born roadside colossus that has somehow, impossibly, landed in Northern Colorado.

Now, I’m no dummy. I’ve got Google. I’ve got Instagram. I’ve know people from Texas who treat Buc-ee’s like a sacred temple where you worship at the altar of beaver-branded snacks. So when Ivy and Zander declared that one of our Official Summer Family Activities™ was going to be a pilgrimage to the new-ish Buc-ee’s, I was aware it was going to be big.

But here’s the thing: I was not prepared.

Not even a little bit.

Behold the Beaver Kingdom

We pull off the highway and there it is: a glowing red sign with the famous cartoon beaver, surrounded by what looks like a never-ending sea of gas pumps. I’m talking dozens and dozens, enough to fuel a medium-sized militia or at least everyone in line at a Chick-fil-A drive-thru during lunch rush.

And the cars? Y’ALL. There were more people at this gas station than I’ve seen at some of our local farmers markets. It was like Black Friday, but the doorbuster deals were barbecue sandwiches and logo hoodies. I had to actually circle for parking. At a gas station. My mind? Already wobbling.

"Bass Pro Shop, But With More Jerky"

The minute we stepped inside, Zander looked around, eyes wide, and announced:

“This is like the Bass Pro Shop of gas stations.”

And honestly, he nailed it. There were wall-to-wall people, giant soda fountains, an entire wall of beef jerky, a fudge counter, a brisket carving station (yes, carving—the guy behind the counter had a KNIFE and a MICROPHONE), and—wait for it—an entire clothing store. Not a rack or two of t-shirts. An actual clothing department.

There were swimsuits. There were hats. There were onesies for babies and performance polos for dads and trendy cropped hoodies for teens who want to look cute while reminding everyone they’ve "Been There, Done That, Got the Buc-ee’s Shirt."

And yes, we bought merch. Ivy got a 40 ounce Buc-ee’s tumbler and Stuffed Buc-ee key chain who has become the official mascot of the Summer of '25. Zander was more restrained (because we were buying and I wasn't gonna go nuts) and just got a magnet.  I bought some jerky-because, duh!  We posed for pictures with the mascot.  Ken tried to convince me to get a Buc-ee's swim suit for our upcoming vacation but I drew the line at that, because I'm certain that would have tripped me over from being quirky to certifiably insane.

Brisket Sandwiches & Beaver Chips

Once the shopping frenzy settled (read: I physically pulled my children away from the wall of beaver plushies), we hit the food counters. It was here that I realized: Buc-ee’s is not playing around. The brisket sandwich was hot, smoky, and entirely legit. The Beaver Chips—crunchy house-made potato chips with just enough salt to make you question your life’s sodium intake—were weirdly addictive.

Now, my one complaint is the lack of tables.  I guess some people think the tailgating aspect is charming, but I'm too old and my knees are too bad to be sitting on concrete.  I almost thought about buying a Buc-ee's branded folding chair to ease my pain, but again...I'm not completely cray.

I Took a BUNCH of Pictures

You guys all know that I'm THAT person.. The one who brings her big camera everywhere, snapping pics like we were at the Eiffel Tower. Zander and Ivy posing with the Beaver Statue out front? Click. Ivy and Z holding their Buc-ee’s icees like we'd found treature? Click. Ken with a slightly strange expression with his Beaver Chips? Oh you better believe I clicked.

Final Thoughts: The Buc-ee’s Effect

We were there for over an hour. At a gas station. I don’t even spend that much time at the grocery store, and that place has free samples and stuff I actually need.

And the wildest part? I get it now. The hype, the merch, the reverence. Buc-ee’s is not just a place to fill your tank and maybe grab a bag of Combos. It’s an experience. It’s a roadside rite of passage. It’s the kind of place where you go in expecting a snack and come out with pulled pork, a full wardrobe, and 47 photos of a cartoon beaver.

So if you’ve been hearing whispers about the Colorado Buc-ee’s and are wondering if it’s worth the trip? Trust me, it absolutely is. But here’s a word of warning: don’t go in thinking you’ll just pop in for a soda and leave. That’s how it gets you. That’s the Buc-ee’s way.

Hopefully this post has prepared you more than I was.

But let’s be honest:
It probably won’t.

🐿️💛🛻