Arkansas Highway 25: Heber Springs to Greenbrier

Take a rolling, ridge-to-valley ride through the Arkansas Ozark foothills as we follow Arkansas Highway 25 from Heber Springs to Greenbrier. This 31-mile southwest run trades lake-country edges for hay fields and hardwood draws, with small-town main streets punctuating the rhythm. It’s a practical connector with a scenic streak—one that links Little Red River country to the US-65 corridor without ever forgetting the land it crosses.

We set off at the junction of AR-25 and AR-110 on Heber Springs’ south side, easing away from the Little Red River valley and climbing the first of several low ridgelines. Pavement is generally smooth with occasional patchwork typical of rural secondaries, and the geometry encourages a steady, unhurried pace. Early on, the roadside mix tells you where we’ve been and where we’re headed: outfitters and cabin turnoffs that nod to the river and nearby Greers Ferry Lake upstream under the care of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (Greers Ferry Project), then longer views to pasture as the highway crests and tips into shallow draws. We keep one eye on the horizon and one on the curve signs—this is classic foothill driving with gentle sweepers, short grades, and modest shoulders as county roads dart in from either side.

Between Heber Springs and Quitman, AR-25 rides a subtle divide between headwaters that eventually find either the Little Red or the Cadron. Treelines open to reveal round bales dotting hay meadows, blue-lined ponds, and clusters of oaks guarding farmhouse drives. Sightlines matter here; curves tighten near shaded hollows and the occasional hillcrest hides a short sight distance, especially where local roads meet the highway at an angle. Traffic is a mixed bag—weekday commuters, lake-area service trucks, and through-travelers aiming for US-65—so we keep speeds honest and build our cadence around the road, not the other way around. In leaf-off months the land reads wider; in summer, the canopy narrows the frame to greens and glints of water.

Approaching Quitman, the highway trades rural rhythm for a small-town corridor. Speed limits step down, cross streets thicken, and daily life—school zones, storefronts, hardware-store pickups nosed to the curb—reminds us that for many, AR-25 is Main Street with a state route shield. John A. Quitman’s namesake town grew as a farming and trade stop, and it still feels that way; we roll past churches and porches, then clear the town grid as the two-lane resumes its southwest line. The land breathes again between pine-hardwood stands and open pasture, with a few straightaways long enough to appreciate the lay of the land before the next set of curves.

As Greenbrier comes into view, AR-25 gradually broadens to meet higher volumes. Subdivisions, schools, and small businesses announce our arrival in a growing bedroom community for the Conway metro. The name “Greenbrier” comes honestly—creeks, vines, and low, green corridors trace the drainage toward the Cadron. The highway’s shoulder lines widen, turn lanes appear, and we sense the handoff ahead. Soon enough, AR-25 ends at its junction with US-65, the spine of north–south travel through this part of the state. From here, it’s natural to swing south toward Conway and the Arkansas River Valley or north back into the heart of the Ozarks. Either way, our time on AR-25 proves its role as a connective thread—tying lake country, farm country, and town life into a single, easy-going drive.

We leave the segment with a quiet appreciation: AR-25 never clamors for attention, but its everyday curves, pastures, and town blocks are a portrait of the foothills in motion—steady, useful, and quietly scenic.