Go Together Life

We never expected our top-ranked gas station stop to be one part roadside refueling and one part wild frontier shopping spree, but that’s exactly what we found on our way into Zion National Park from Kanab. Fresh off a short but satisfying hike through Belly of the Dragon, we were craving snacks, some warmth, and maybe the ability to make a few more questionable decisions.

Enter: The White Mountain Trading Post, in Mt. Carmel, Utah. What we thought would be a routine gas-and-go turned into a full-blown shopping adventure and the moment we stepped inside, we knew we’d hit road trip gold.

Let’s start here: yes, we walked out with a raccoon hat. And no, we didn’t really need it. But when a store offers everything from Native American jewelry to enough taxidermy to furnish an entire log cabin, how do you say no? Spoiler: we didn’t. Our group, usually quite restrained in everyday life, went full “kids in a candy store,” except substitute candy with Christmas ornaments, quirky T-shirts, and roughly fourteen types of jerky.

It wasn’t just the merch. It was the vibe: dusty desert oddity meets Western trading post with a side of “should we buy this for someone else’s house just to see their face?” The answer to that was almost always yes. The souvenir one-upmanship hit new heights (or lows?) as both families tried to outdo each other with the most absurd gift ideas. Did someone suggest a mounted jackalope for the living room? Possibly.

And let’s not forget the jerky. This was the place where we discovered every imaginable jerky flavor, perfect fuel for our now-legendary family jerky challenge. If a gas station gives rise to both an iconic family memory and a raccoon hat, it deserves its crown.

Gas Station: The White Mountain Trading Post, Mt. Carmel, Utah
Vibe: Wild West meets chaotic Etsy shop
Snacks: 13/10 Jerky heaven
Bathrooms: Clean enough for a mid-desert reset

Bonus: Across the street? The Thunderbird Restaurant, home of the legendary ho-made pie (yes, you read that right). Thankfully, the name is an innocent artifact of an old hand-painted sign with limited real estate, not some roadside scandal. And the pie? Totally worth the detour.

Would we go back? In a heartbeat. With more trunk space.