A short ode to Buc-ee’s – Atlanta Magazine

Depending on who you ask, Buc-ee’s can either sound like a road trip oasis or the ninth circle of hell. The enormous convenience stores—the chain’s largest location holds a world record, at 75,593 square feet—began in Texas, naturally, and have spread across the South, bringing their maximalist offerings and cult following with them. Georgia’s highways now boast two locations, with two more under construction.

Inside, the mammoth pit stop is filled with everything from kolaches to swimsuits and throw pillows. The grinning face of Buc-ee’s, the adorable beaver mascot, guides you to each location from miles away via a series of quirky interstate billboards. Each store is usually crowded. There’s nowhere to sit and eat. It boasts more tchotchkes than your grandmother’s living room. But I absolutely love it. Over the years, I’ve scored perfect last-minute Christmas gifts. Admired the artwork in the supremely clean bathrooms. Scarfed down a delicious pulled pork sandwich with a Diet Dr Pepper the size of my face. Indulged in birthday cake fudge, warm cinnamon-glazed cashews, and the addictive sugary Beaver Nuggets. Bought far too many neon “Buc-ee the Beaver” T-shirts—plus pajama pants, Christmas ornaments, and a beach bag. And added a solid hour to every trip because exploring this shrine to snacks and stuff is just too much fun.

Photograph by Matt Walljasper

A year ago, while visiting family in Texas, my husband and I made our regular stop at Buc-ee’s. I picked out a tiny, royal-blue onesie with three smiling beavers printed across the chest. It was the very first thing I bought for my son, who was born that fall. He’s since outgrown it and moved on to a bright-red Buc-ee’s romper—with matching socks. I can’t wait to take him for his first visit.

This article appears in our August 2025 issue.

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