At the Center of It All

Post General Store Sits in the Middle of Nowhere

Story and photos by Brent ten Pas

For more than a century, the Post General Store has stood the test of time, its rustic, wood-frame building and covered porch welcoming locals and outsiders alike.

Perched on a bank of the Crooked River in remote Crook County, the store serves as the only stop between Prineville and Paulina on Highway 380.

For the local ranching community, the store is a place to get coffee, ice cream, and mail, or to pick up odds and ends, as well as the latest news. Hunters in pursuit of elk, deer, and antelope can take a timeout to refresh or restock supplies.

With a population of fewer than 20, the unincorporated Post draws curiosity seekers from all over the state, if not the world.

No, the town didn’t get its name because it’s the only U.S. Post Office for miles. Wallace and Walter Post filed a homestead claim in 1885 on the Crooked River along the foothills of the Maury Mountains, marking the first wagon road running along the south side of the river.

Before pulling into the store heading east, travelers are greeted by 2 signs: 1 stating that the next available gas is 100 miles away, and another claiming the store sits at the center of Oregon.

A nearby geographical marker in an adjacent field, marked 1903 with “U.S. Geological Survey,” has long given credibility to anyone standing there that they are smack dab in the middle of the state.

Yet the claim is open to debate. Local historians can’t substantiate it, and the United States Geological Survey—the scientific federal agency responsible for producing maps, geological surveys, and data—does not place markers to identify states’ geographical centers.

A step inside the store is a step back in time with its decor, under the watchful eyes of several mounted elk and deer.

Behind the counter stands Sheila Alexander, a pleasant, reserved, and helpful woman. Although only 29, she has been a permanent fixture at Post General Store for the past 14 years, having worked for the previous owners before her parents bought the store.

“I’ve worked here since I was 15,” Sheila says. “It just worked out. That’s what I wanted.”

Sheila handles everything related to running the store, including cooking, serving food, selling merchandise, pumping gas, cleaning, and operating the post office in the back of the store.

Talk to her long enough, and it is clear she is also the historian-in-residence. She can regale visitors about the time when, in 1989, 2 runaway tires busted free from a log-hauling semitruck’s axle, taking out the store’s front porchway and severing 4 pillars before hitting the 2 wooden front doors, just missing 2 fuel pumps.

She talks of the 2020 Frog Fire, which burned more than 4,000 acres, bringing in more than 800 firefighting personnel who slept in the adjacent cow pasture.

“The fire was crazy,” Sheila says. “They camped in that field, and it was a city.” Sheila shares the latest story heard from a local.

“A family and the grandma lived up the road in the Depression times, and she walked miles to the store with her 2 cents for bread,” she says. “By the time she got here, she had lost her 2 cents and had to walk back. The whole family walked back, trying to look for the 2 cents so they could buy bread.”

Running the store allows Sheila and her husband to live in a house out back. While there are benefits, including being surrounded by natural beauty and having no commute, it also has its disadvantages.

Posted along the fence on either side of the store are no-camping signs in response to people pulling up in the late afternoon, setting up camp, breaking out lawn chairs, and making themselves comfortable for the night. Sheila says she has walked out the front of the store some mornings to find people cooking breakfast on their portable grills.

“Things are different out here,” Sheila says. “Life’s slower-paced. You know everyone, but they’re not close enough to be in your business at the same time.”

It is the steady stream of travelers passing through year-round that keeps things lively.

In warm weather, motorcycle riders use Post as the starting point for a roughly 125-mile day loop taking them to Paulina, John Day, and back to Post. The ride covers diverse terrain, including high desert, canyon switchbacks, and river views.

Those more interested in exploring Central Oregon by pedaling can park their vehicles at the far end of the parking lot, unload their bicycles, and embark on a 36-mile loop that takes cyclists primarily on a gravel road through ranch lands and forest.

Organized by Dirty Freehub, an online site dedicated to sharing great gravel bike routes, the annual ride is dubbed “Meatloaf,” named after the store’s famous meatloaf sandwich.

Visitors have also been attracted to Post by what they’ve learned about it online through various social media platforms, such as Reddit and YouTube.

Sheila gives YouTube star Casey Ladelle, who has almost half a million followers, credit for driving up business. Known as a towing and recovery expert based out of Bend, he creates online content by filming his off-road recoveries, often conducted in rugged and snow-covered terrain.

2 years ago, Casey posted a video of himself and his colleague stopping at Post General Store after a rescue mission, buying a meatloaf sandwich and eating it while sitting on the tailgate of his truck, giving it a hearty recommendation. The video has more than 156,000 views and 10,000 likes.

While the store offers various merchandise—including crowd favorite hats promoting Post as the center of Oregon—it is probably best known for its meatloaf sandwich. Made with a secret recipe created by a previous owner, its legacy has endured throughout the years.

Outsiders from all over come for the adventure, novelty, nostalgia, beauty, souvenirs, and, of course, the sandwiches. Sheila is glad they do.

She says the best part of the job is the people.

“You never know who you’ll meet or who might walk through the door that day,” she says.