I spent a week eating only gas station vegan options and it went better than expected

Last month, Marcus and I drove from Portland to Denver for his sister's wedding. Fourteen hours each way, cutting through rural Oregon, Idaho, and Wyoming.

Before we left, I did what any Type A former finance person would do: I meal-prepped containers of quinoa bowls and packed a cooler full of hummus wraps.

By day two, the cooler had become a lukewarm swamp. The quinoa had taken on a texture I'd rather not describe. And there I was, standing in a Sinclair station somewhere in Idaho, genuinely wondering if I could survive on black coffee and existential dread.

Instead, I decided to lean into the challenge. What if I spent the entire week eating only what I could find at gas stations? The results surprised me.

The first day reality check

I'll be honest. My first gas station sweep felt discouraging. I walked the aisles of a Shell in Boise, scanning ingredient lists like I was back analyzing quarterly reports. Milk powder in the chips. Honey in the granola bars. Whey in places whey had no business being.

But then something shifted. I stopped looking for what I couldn't eat and started noticing what I could. Nuts. Fruit cups. Plain potato chips. Corn nuts. Those little cups of peanut butter.

Suddenly, the landscape looked different. Not abundant, exactly, but workable. Have you ever noticed how scarcity can sharpen your attention in unexpected ways?

Building unlikely meals

By day three, I'd developed a system. Breakfast became a banana, a packet of mixed nuts, and black coffee. Lunch was usually Fritos (accidentally vegan, bless them), an apple, and whatever trail mix didn't contain milk chocolate.

Dinner got creative: I'd grab a bag of plain tortilla chips, a container of guacamole from the refrigerated section, and some carrot sticks.

Were these meals Instagram-worthy? Absolutely not. But they were functional. I had energy for our drives. I didn't feel deprived. And honestly? There was something almost meditative about the simplicity. No decisions about what to cook, no elaborate prep. Just fuel.

What the convenience stores got right

Here's what genuinely surprised me: the options have improved dramatically since I went vegan eight years ago. Multiple stations carried hummus cups. One Love's Travel Stop in Wyoming had an entire section of plant-based jerky.

I found coconut water, cold brew with oat milk, and even a surprisingly decent black bean soup at a Pilot station.

According to market research from Statista, the plant-based food market has grown exponentially over the past decade, and that growth is clearly reaching even the most unlikely retail spaces. The demand is reshaping what's available, one gas station cooler at a time.

The nutrition question

Let me be clear: I'm not suggesting this as a long-term eating strategy. A week of gas station food meant I was lower on leafy greens and whole grains than I'd like. My fiber intake definitely suffered. But I was also reminded that perfection isn't the goal of veganism, or of any sustainable lifestyle choice.

Research from the National Institutes of Health suggests that dietary flexibility and reduced stress around food choices can actually support better long-term health outcomes. Sometimes good enough really is good enough, especially when the alternative is anxiety and rigidity.

Lessons beyond the road trip

What stayed with me after we got home wasn't the specific snacks I'd discovered. It was the reminder that I don't need perfect conditions to live according to my values.

During my finance years, I watched colleagues make fear-based decisions because they couldn't tolerate uncertainty. I've done it myself. But growth happens in the uncomfortable middle spaces, not in the carefully controlled environments we try to construct.

This week taught me that being vegan doesn't require access to Whole Foods or a fully stocked kitchen. It requires intention and flexibility. Those two things can coexist.

Final thoughts

Would I do this again by choice? Probably not. I missed my morning smoothies and evening stir-fries. But I'm genuinely grateful for what the experiment revealed. Veganism isn't about purity or having the most photogenic meals.

It's about making choices aligned with your values, even when those choices look like a bag of Fritos and some baby carrots eaten in a parking lot outside Cheyenne.

Next time you're on a road trip and the options look bleak, take a breath. Walk the aisles with curiosity instead of defeat. You might be surprised what you find, both on the shelves and within yourself.