Inside Pennsylvania’s gas station wars

The Keystone State’s defining divide: Sheetz vs Wawa

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Travelers road-tripping across Pennsylvania this summer, take heed: a war is brewing in the center of the state.

Buildings have been flattened. Families have been torn apart. The threat of an emerging third power regularly captures headlines and fuels the local rumor mills.

I am referring to the competition among three gas stations-cum-convenience megastores — Sheetz, Rutter’s and Wawa. It is said to be the “most heated food rivalry in the country.” Food? A lot of what these places pass off as “food” is up there with the cosmic chicken sponge found at airports. Nonetheless, the rivalry…

Travelers road-tripping across Pennsylvania this summer, take heed: a war is brewing in the center of the state.

Buildings have been flattened. Families have been torn apart. The threat of an emerging third power regularly captures headlines and fuels the local rumor mills.

I am referring to the competition among three gas stations-cum-convenience megastores — Sheetz, Rutter’s and Wawa. It is said to be the “most heated food rivalry in the country.” Food? A lot of what these places pass off as “food” is up there with the cosmic chicken sponge found at airports. Nonetheless, the rivalry is real. It’s palpable. It’s all-American. And as for the rural places benefiting from this capitalism, as the kids like to say, we’re here for it.

Sheetz was founded in 1952 in Altoona, Pennsylvania, where I attended high school. We’d go to the first “Super Sheetz” one block away pretty much every day after school to hang out, have a snack and loiter before sports practices. I can’t tell you how many times I used the massive restroom in Sheetz to change into tennis, basketball, or track and field togs — or even, now and then, a dance dress. In drives up and down the East Coast, Sheetz has remained an old reliable for gas, clean bathrooms, a pick-me-up and a sense of home.

My familiarity with Rutter’s is more limited, as the chain, which claims roots dating back to 1747 in York, only opened its first store in my own Centre County in 2019. When Sheetz put up a store in York, it was said to be “invading” Rutter’s hometown. Hardcore investigative reporter that I am, I did some research at Rutter’s Altoona store, built in a down and dirty power move mere blocks from Sheetz headquarters

I found fresh, plentiful coffee (including a Rwandan blend), spotless bathrooms, and calmer lighting that contrasted with the fluorescent-everything of the Sheetz brand (whose current motto is “Why the Sheetz not?”). I also found an eyebrow-raising number of seafood options — two-piece, “tavern-battered” cod from the gas station, anyone? There was also a “Lo Mein Dinner Bowl” on the touchscreen menu, signaling that either convenience or food has taken on a whole new meaning.

Rutter’s coffee was superior to Sheetz’s, but with a java station stocked full of communal syrup pumps and whipped creams, it didn’t really matter. The candy aisle was double-lit to illume the Reese’s Cups like fine jewelry glittering in a display case. In all, Rutter’s gave me the impression of being the more thought-out second take to the bodacious, anything-goes world of Sheetz. The Ron to the Don, if you will.

Sheetz’s hegemony over central Pennsylvania has been long-standing, yet a regime change could be on the horizon

Sheetz’s hegemony over central Pennsylvania has been long-standing, yet a regime change could be on the horizon. According to a March 2023 report, “preliminary plans appear to be in the works to bring Wawa to Centre County.” Yet something tells me Sheetz won’t just lie down and roll over. In places like Everett, where a massive Rutter’s store and gas station has commandeered its very own road and traffic light, Sheetz, a quarter mile further on, has dutifully bulldozed its (perfectly fine) store to build a bigger, fancier facility to puff out its chest.

I had a Wawa hoagie years ago and remember thinking it was superior to Sheetz (blasphemy). But Wawa now flaunts its commitment to “diversity, equity and inclusion” and its “social purpose.” Meanwhile, Sheetz’s website includes tabs ordering you to “Buy Stuff” and to answer “What’s a Sheetz?” while also blitzkrieging your hedonistic receptor-cells with the prospect of a “Fudge Brownie Milkshake Made with Cow Tales.”

Wawa has yet to stake a claim in central Pennsylvania, but the stage has been set for years for an ideological tug-of-war: Sheetz and Wawa have pitted western Pennsylvania hillbillies and their Philadelphia contemporaries against each other since Wawa’s first food market opened in 1964. In fact, Sheetz Vs. Wawa: The Movie, “the official documentary about one of America’s greatest rivalries,” is in the works, directed by the aptly named Matthew J. Fridg (of Indiana, Pennsylvania, just like Jimmy Stewart).

Readers may ask why? Why does a sparsely populated area of the country need what may appear to be a surplus of extravagant gas stations? The answer is that since we have more or less nothing, we need everything. Rutters/Sheetz/Wawa often act as small-town general stores, all-night greasy spoons, corner grocery stores and social hubs. They’re also a cash cow. All three chains started out as small family dairy stores and continue to expand as Pennsylvania-based, family-run marvels.

I asked friends to weigh in on the rivalry. Generally, loyalty boiled down to where people first learned to appreciate convenient gas station refreshment. A few chimed in that they love something different about each place. One friend noted the pleasure in buying cigarettes and snacks after the bars close at 2 a.m., and so — they’re all great!

Hear, hear! They’re also all bad, food-wise, serving their own versions of liquid cheese and Styrofoam bread. But then they’re all safe havens to road warriors and townies alike, serving comfort food (that hurts later), caffeine, and 6,000 varieties of bottled beverages at every stop.

I’ll always be loyal to Sheetz — I’m pretty sure they paid for all the sports uniforms I was changing into in their bathrooms. But next time you’re in Pennsylvania, judge for yourself — and think of me when you’re chowing down on an MTO burger topped with mac-n-cheese bites, Dr. Pepper BBQ and steak. God bless America.

This article was originally published in The Spectator’s May 2023 World edition.