Finding Romance On The Road At Giant Beaver-Themed Gas Station

DAYTONA BEACH, FL — Buc-ee's, the Texas-based mega gas station, isn't just a stop for road-tripping folks like me looking to fill up their tank, score a 99-cent bag of ice and find relief in the "world's cleanest" bathrooms.

In this Florida beach town, Buc-ee's is for lovers.

At least according to Floridians who shared stories with me about having a "dam" good time with their main squeeze "gnawing" on tasty brisket sandwiches with a side of "beaver nuggets" and shopping for rodent-themed tchotchkes.

After too many stops at dirty truck stops on our meandering trip through the South, I found it difficult to believe someone would intentionally take their sweetie to a roadside convenience store known for its beaver mascot, more than 120 fueling stations, an abundance of commodes — and all the sophomoric jokes that go with it.

So on a stormy Florida night, my trusty navigator and I went to find out for ourselves.

We veered off Interstate 95 for a romantic stroll down the aisles of the "Shangri-La of gas stations," as Gov. Ron DeSantis called the beaver gas palace when he cut the ribbon on Florida's largest Buc-ee's a few months back.

At 10 o'clock on a work night, the joint was hopping with "beaver believers."

I immediately (and annoyingly) shouted every time I found a new product bearing a picture of Buc-ee's adorable beaver branding.

There were beavers on coolers, koozies and all kinds of kitsch.

We spotted beaver logos on boogie boards, beach towels and bandanas.

You can get a beaver-themed grill, camping chair and pop-up canopy.

Buc-ee the Beaver has his own line of jalapeno-flavored chips, beef jerky, hot sauces, jellies, coffee, candy and animal crackers.

"They should call this place the forest," I declared. "There are beavers everywhere."

"'Dam,' pun intended, you think you're so funny," my Buc-ee's date said, as she eyed beaver-branded bikini bottoms and ordered me to get a shopping cart — at a highway gas station.

I returned to find her flashing her two front teeth with an almost rabid look in her eyes.

She was dressed in a Buc-ee's beaver onesie — complete with a buck-toothed hood — with a beaver wine glass in one hand and a beaver plushy cradled under her arm.

"I love Buc-ee's," she said. "And you're not so bad, either."

I started to think Buc-ee's might be the most romantic place on Earth.

Just then, we spotted a young woman in a red cocktail dress walking arm in arm with a tall, dark and handsome man in a nightclub-worthy dress shirt.

"Are you on a Buc-ee's date, too?" I asked.

"Oh yeah! We've been having fun. We took a cute picture with the beaver outside," said Anh Tong of Houston, Texas, cradling a Buc-ee the Beaver blanket.

Her date, Jose Vasquez, picked up a Buc-ee's dog bowl for his pup and a "Beaver Crossing" sign as a vacation keepsake for back home in Chico, California.

Tong raved about her first Buc-ee's date. "It's very impressive with all the beaver merchandise and so many bathrooms, so clean and nice."

Tong wasn't kidding. We counted 14 ultra-clean urinals and 40 toilets.

When I offered praise of the spick-and-span mirrors and shiny thrones, a Buc-ee's employee manning the bathroom explained the secret to the "world famous" level of cleanliness.

"They make us stay in here and clean all day long," he said.

For that, beaver believers out on the highways like us are thankful.

There's a chance Buc-ee's could be coming to strategically located interstate cloverleafs near you as part of a corporation eager to bring its beaver convenience stores to parts of the country that attract road-tripping families.

So far, that strategy has been a winner. Folks in the corporate office boast that Buc-ee the Beaver was a bigger national draw than Mickey Mouse in 2019.

The gas station chain claims to have drawn more than 100 million visitors to 43 stores the year before the coronavirus crisis — more people than all the Disney theme parks combined, according to Buc-ee's general counsel Jeff Nadalo.

I counted the embarrassingly high pile of Buc-ee's swag in our cart as proof that beaver-themed anything can be just as powerful a brand as a cartoon mouse.

After more than an hour of browsing, it was time for dinner.

We hit the checkout line.

We gnawed on tasty sliced brisket sandwiches — the handiwork of Buc-ee's director of barbecue, nationally renowned pit master Randy Pauly — in our pickup truck.

Just outside the windshield, teenagers entertained themselves, and us, posing for selfies with the bronze beaver statue outside the Buc-ee's entrance.

We left with a full gas tank, bellies and love in our hearts.

If you're looking for a strangely romantic date when storms dampen a day at the beach, take our advice.

Leave it to beaver — Buc-ee's, that is.

Mark Konkol, recipient of the 2011 Pulitzer Prize for local reporting, wrote and produced the Peabody Award-winning series, "Time: The Kalief Browder Story." He was a producer, writer and narrator for the "Chicagoland" docu-series on CNN, and a consulting producer on the Showtime documentary, "16 Shots."

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