Can Sheetz Dethrone Wawa on Its Own Turf?
We go to the front lines of Pennsylvania’s convenience store war, where the first battle is underway.

The new Sheetz in Limerick / Photography by Jason Sheehan
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The helicopters were out last Thursday morning, circling overhead, and on the ground news crews had assembled, clogging the parking lot with their vans.
There was a point around 8 a.m where reporters outnumbered customers, but an hour or so later there was a line of people snaking from the door of the brand-new Sheetz at 454 West Ridge Pike in Limerick Township, all the way down the length of the building and around the corner. Fifty, easy. Probably more. And even more still coming — arguing over parking spots, loitering around the lot, mobbing the WMGK sponsor tent looking for free Sheetz merch, or just watching the scene.
This was the Sheetz everyone has been talking about with the breathless anticipation of a Papal visit: opening in Montgomery County, solidly within the boundaries of what would normally be considered Wawa’s turf. The Sheetz-as-invasive-species story, not just encroaching on Wawaland, but opening just down the road from one Wawa, around the corner from another, and directly across the street from a third.
On the other side of Ridge Pike, they’re giving away free coffee at the Wawa. “All day,” the cashier says. “This location only.” Ahead of me in line, an old man is getting a pack of Swishers. He looks out the front windows, across the street at all the hubbub. The news vans and helicopters.
“This because of all that?” he asks, nodding his head minimally in the direction of the new Sheetz, and the cashier says yup. Of course it is. The old man thinks for a second. “Could go over and burn the place down,” he offers. “Nah,” says the cashier. “No point. It won’t last.”
Standing there, I wonder for a second what she means by that. The commotion? It won’t last. The press will go home. The crowds — attracted mostly by the thrill of something new and shiny, the gravity of long lines — will disperse. And soon, it will just be a Sheetz, directly across the street from a Wawa, doing its Sheetz things while Wawa does its Wawa things.

The Limerick Sheetz, located right across the street from a Wawa
For those of you who don’t entirely understand the contours of this particular rivalry, here it is in broad strokes. Altoona-based Sheetz controls all of Western Pennsylvania. All of it. Wawa commands the Philly region, the collar counties, and Southeastern PA. If you look at a map, you can see that the front lines of this war for the loyalties of Pennsylvanians runs through Bethlehem, Allentown, Reading, and Millersville. York, on the far side of the Susquehanna, is a Sheetz town. Lancaster, on the near side, is split. Sheetz controls far more real estate, and operates something north of 312 locations in this state. Wawa has a smaller total footprint here, but is scrappier, does more business (according to most reports), and has roughly 270 stores. Lately, Sheetz has been trying to horn in on Wawa’s territory. This new store on Ridge Pike? It’s their boldest move yet.
But this is about more than just economics. It’s about regional identity and brand loyalties that are passed down through generations. It’s a kind of cultural stress test being played out in real time. If you were born and raised in the Philly region, you were born into the cult of Wawa. Morning coffee, midnight cheesesteaks, and Hoagiefest every summer. Wherever you are, the Wawa is a landmark, an indispensable accessory to everyday life, always there for you. It is, as I talked about a few weeks ago when discussing the un-lamented closure of the Robot Wawa on Market Street, one of the region’s most valuable “third places” — not work, not home, but of nearly equal social and psychological importance. People feel a fierce kind of affection for their local outpost. They get married at Wawa. They get Wawa tattoos.
Sheetz fans? They’re not a lot different. The “Sheetz Freakz” have their own vibe, for sure. They’ve got their own plushies.
On the day of the grand opening, the Freakz were out in force. That line? It was formidable. People had driven an hour just to come here to get their custom hot dogs, curly fries, and Shnuggetz; to fly the flag of the Sheetz kingdom deep in rival territory or, maybe, just to see something new.

Aisles of snacks leading to the Sheetz’s “Walk-in Beer Cave”
The new Sheetz has advantages that go beyond its simple newness. They have a beer fridge (not yet stocked on opening day, but there), which the Wawa across the street does not have. There’s a drive-thru, which, by dint of fast-food habit, feels more convenient than the curbside pickup at Wawa (even if it probably really isn’t, on the consumer side, anyway). And the menu leans heavily on fried food, snacks, and guilty-pleasure junk. Everything comes with a Z at the end of it: Appz, burgerz, taterz, Shnack Wrapz. They make a big deal out of their made-to-order bona fides as if Wawa wasn’t doing the exact same thing across the street (or state), but shout it so loudly (on their app, the website, socials, on big display monitors inside the brand-new and shiny store) that you find yourself wondering if, somehow, their Shnuggetz and Dogz are more fresh, somehow. More hand-made.
Sheetz also has a seating area, making it feel at least a little more like a restaurant than your typical Wawa does. The aisles are wide and filled with convenience foods and grab-and-go snacks and sandwiches. There’s music playing — interrupted by loud announcements of pickup orders ready to be retrieved, electronic monitors screaming out deals and combos, lottery machines blinking — and all of it feels more modern and more exciting than the Wawa with its employees mumbling out order numbers. But at Sheetz, they also call their sandwiches “Subz,” not hoagies, and I don’t think Philadelphians are going to go for that. I don’t think they’re going to give up their Gobblers and breakfast sandwiches and generational loyalty for a fistful of mozzarella sticks and a Freak plushie.
So a few days after the grand opening, I went back. 8:30 a.m., height of the morning rush. I sat in the parking lot and counted cars like a Cold War spy, watching people come and go from both locations. After the initial hysteria — the giveaways, the press coverage, the lines — I wanted to see how a normal Tuesday looked on the new front lines of the Sheetz-Wawa rivalry.

Sheetz’s seating area
On one side, construction workers, contractors, and school bus drivers packed the Wawa lot. Daily commuters came and went, filling parking spaces, emptying out, then filling them up again. It was busy in the way that all mornings at the Wawa are busy — a steady tide of locals who’d been doing this same thing for years.
Across the way, the Sheetz lot was sparse. A scattering of cars and trucks, no lines, no mob scene. It wasn’t empty, but it sure wasn’t jumping. And I thought back to that Wawa cashier on opening day. It won’t last, she’d said. Weary with the weight of experience. With knowing her neighbors and their habits.
And on the one hand, she was absolutely right. The excitement of new things? That was never going to last. Not here in the heart of Wawaland.
But the Sheetz itself and the battle for the appetites of Limerick? That, I think, will last a while. It’s going to be the way of things at this corner of Ridge Pike and Lewis Road, for a long time. And no one knows yet how that will end, except to say that while this Sheetz may be the first location to put itself so directly toe-to-toe with its rival, and so deep in unfriendly territory, it certainly won’t be the last. (There’s speculation that they’re eyeing up properties in Delaware County, about five miles from Wawa’s headquarters.) There’s too much at stake. Too many potential converts in the collar counties who haven’t yet gotten their Wawa tattoos. It’s a battle of Subz versus hoagies, Shnuggetz versus Gobblers, loyalty versus novelty.
And here in Montco, it’s just getting started.