Pandemic ‘22

Brisket, beavers and bathrooms

Somewhere on I-75 South in Georgia – The first sign of trouble appeared on a billboard near Calhoun, about 70 miles north of Atlanta. A colorful roadside ad featured what looked like a smiling, cartoonish chipmunk with a black background and this screaming-yellow message: “BUC-EE’S … A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME.”

Rebecca: “Ever heard of Buc-ee’s?”

Me: “Nope. Maybe they bought Stuckey’s.”

Rebecca: “Yeah, right. Buc-ee’s bought Stuckey’s. Funny.”

Then another billboard: “BUC-EE’S … BEAVER NUGGETS!”

Me: “Guess it’s a beaver and not a chipmunk.”

Rebecca: “Yeah, definitely a beaver.”

It’s a quiet ride for a few more miles. Then, yet another sign: ‘BUC-EE’S … ALWAYS OPEN. 165 MILES.’”

Me: “That’s wrong on so many levels.”

A few miles more along I-75 South, we saw the masterpiece of all highway billboards: “BUC-EE’s … BRISKET, BEAVERS & BATHROOMS.”

Suddenly, the blinker’s on, and we’re slowing down from the speed of light. 

Me: “What are you doing?”

Rebecca: “Going to Buc-ee’s. I mean, how can we not stop? Plus, I have to pee.”

As co-pilot and navigator, I’m keeper of the maps, Kleenex and snacks. But I would not stop for perpetually open beavers. Ever.

We pull in. The place looks as if it chewed, swallowed and regurgitated a couple of Costcos, a Sam’s Club and three dozen gas stations. Holy crap!

Cover me. We’re going in. 

In case you aren’t familiar with Buc-ee’s, allow me to enlighten you.

A well-known haven for road trippers on southern state highways, this 54,000-square-foot “convenience store” offers homemade fudge, beef jerky and other assorted beaver oddities, such as knickknacks, T-shirts, keychains and print tank swimsuits.

All motorists are welcome, just not truckers. In fact, no 18-wheelers are allowed.

Welcome to Buc-ee’s.

Founder Arch Alpin, right, talks with a Buc-ee’s worker.

The founder is Arch “Beaver” Aplin, a Texas entrepreneur and Texas A&M graduate who made it big. Aplin and his business partner, Don Wasek, opened their first store in Lake Jackson, Texas, south of Houston, in 1982 with a focus on cheap ice and clean bathrooms.

To this day, their award-winning bathrooms are still voted among the best in the nation. No. 1 and No. 2. (Sorry, I couldn’t hold that one.)

The name Buc-ee’s comes from Aplin’s childhood nickname (Beaver) and his dog (Buck), along with the Ipana brand toothpaste animated mascot, Bucky Beaver, popularized in the 1950s.

I’ve re-read that sentence out loud twice, and it still makes me grin. 

As of this moment, Buc-ee’s has 41 travel centers in Alabama, Florida, Georgia and its home state of Texas. They employ more than 1,000 workers.

The chain was even featured in a Jan. 30 segment of “CBS Sunday Morning.”

In 2012, Buc-ee’s opened its largest travel center in New Braunfels, Texas, near San Antonio, off I-35. It’s the largest convenience store in the world at 68,000 square feet.

Dang, everything is bigger in Texas, isn’t it?

Locations are currently in development for Kentucky, South Carolina, Mississippi and Tennessee. No plans yet for Michigan. Might not be a beaver-friendly state with so many rabid Wolverines. (Tee-hee.)

The store in Warner Robins, Georgia, is the Peach State’s first Buc-ee’s location. They opened in November 2020 as the COVID-19 pandemic raged, according to our cashier, Darlene.

Buc-ee’s workers sure seemed happy. Starting pay is about $15 an hour, with medical benefits, three weeks’ paid vacation and a 401(k).

All this and the company still tops $500 million in annual revenues. Who says businesses can’t pay workers fair wages with benefits and still make a profit?

And they’re not just known for clean bathrooms. Buc-ee’s homemade BBQ is downright delicious.

Customers can watch talented workers behind the BBQ counter break down a brisket and chop it up with astounding flair and precision. Every so often they yell: “Brisket on the board!” or “Sauce on the board!”

Then they refill large trays with pulled pork, brisket and BBQ beef sandwiches, Beaver Chips and other delights. Hungry customers flock like seagulls to get ‘em while they’re hot.

It’s a lot to take in for this Motown girl.

Wide-eyed and slightly overwhelmed, I nearly bumped into a store display of Beaver Nuggets.

An older gentleman wearing a University of Georgia Bulldogs cap gently grabbed me by the elbow and steered me past them.

“Thanks,” I said. “Go, Dawgs.”

What are Beaver Nuggets, you ask? They’re a sweet, crunchy snack that come in a variety of flavors, such as sea salt caramel, bold and spicy, and original. Of course, we bought some.

The reporter in me wanted to know what about Buc-ee’s appealed to customers. So, I asked the Old Dawg, who said this without hesitation: “Oh, well, we stop for the beaver. Have a blessed day.”

I will. I definitely will.

After we left Buc-ee’s with our stash of pulled pork, brisket and Beaver Chips, my phone rang. It was my sister, Corky. We related our Buc-ee’s experience to her in exhaustive detail.

“It really doesn’t take much to make you two happy, does it?”

No, it doesn’t. Now excuse us while we grab another Beaver Nugget.

Retired print journalist, blogger and Madison’s other mother.❤️🐾

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