Hillarosa ATV Park: AR Mud, ATVs & UTVs, & Outlaw Island

Sink your teeth into the Ozan Creek mud, then drag yourself out and raise hell on Outlaw Island.

Welcome to Blevins, Arkansas. Down here, Ozan Creek spills over its banks and turns the dirt into thick, heavy glue. This trail system is not a gentle weekend ride. It is a raw test of mechanical limits and your own stubborn grit.

Bring your ATV, UTV, or dirt bike, but leave those city trucks at home unless you want to watch your drive shaft snap like a twig in a lumberjack’s path. These bogs don’t care who you are—they just love to chew up heavy metal and spit out the weak.

This mud doesn’t just swallow tires—it’ll gulp down your whole front end if you so much as blink. That Arkansas clay packs itself into your radiator like it’s trying to slow-roast your engine for supper, and you’ll catch a whiff of burning belt before you ever see daylight. Every inch near the Sportsman Bounty Hole is a bare-knuckle brawl with the land, and only raw horsepower and a throttle foot that doesn’t flinch will drag you out the other side.

When the sun drops behind the pines and the engines finally shut their mouths, you haul your bruised-up rig over to Outlaw Island. That’s when the bonfires crackle, your bruises start feeling like war medals, and the whole muddy tribe throws a party just for surviving another round with Arkansas dirt.

---

First Tracks: Park Overview & Riding Basics

These two thousand acres of Arkansas clay used to fatten up Bonner family cattle, but when beef prices went belly-up, JJ Bonner swapped cows for chaos. Now Hillarosa is a mud-slinging, throttle-banging circus where pretty scenery gets left choking in the dust and every water crossing is a bare-knuckle scrap with the land. If your machine’s got a weak bolt, this place will sniff it out and snap it like a chicken bone.

Nobody rolls into Hillarosa looking for a quiet picnic. When the High Lifter Mud Nationals roll through, this patch of Arkansas turns into the Super Bowl of mud, with eight thousand wild-eyed riders dragging in rigs that look like Mad Max built them after a bender. The staging area is a battlefield of custom machines, steaming radiators, and country anthems blasting over the roar of open pipes.

The real carnage happens down in the trenches, where the Sportsman Bounty Hole and Battle of the Builds lure in the brave and the foolish with fat stacks of prize money. Drop into that sticky mess and you’ll feel your driveline start praying for mercy. It’s a test of heat, guts, and throttle finesse, and you’ll see axles snap and CV joints explode quicker than a cottonmouth in a henhouse when the big rigs try to muscle through the King of the Deep.

Daylight at Hillarosa is a three-ring circus—ATV musical chairs, drag races, and rowdy throwdowns like Muddin’ For The Military keep the adrenaline spiking. But when the sun finally throws in the towel and the engines tap out, the whole muddy mob limps over to Outlaw Island. Bonfires roar, lasers cut through the haze, and country stars light up the Blackwood Lumber Stage. The party after dark hits just as hard as the Arkansas mud.

---

The Dirt: What Makes This Park Worth the Ride

Arkansas Clay and Ozan Creek Washouts. Hillarosa sits on 2,000 acres of thick, heavy mud that borders the Ozan Creek basin. You shift from hard dirt trails right into deep, sticky bogs without any warning. This clay is famously heavy and locks onto spinning metal tighter than a rusted bolt. It will chew up drive belts and stall out stock machines the second you drop into the lower elevations. You need serious wheel speed to clear your treads before the earth swallows your rig whole.

Hidden Ruts and Flood-Stage Creek Drops. Spring rains turn this place into a flooded swamp, with water depths that change faster than your luck. Ozan Creek spills over and hides deep, suspension-busting drop-offs just beneath the mud. That innocent-looking puddle? It’ll swallow a 30-inch tire and send dirty water straight into your air intake. The land changes so fast, the park only opens for the best mud and the wildest events. Time your trip right or miss out.

The Sportsman Bounty Hole and Racing Trenches. The undisputed heavyweight of this property is the Sportsman Bounty Hole. It is a massive, tiered mud pit where the clay gets progressively deeper, thicker, and more brutal on the driveline. This is where hardcore competitors line up for the Battle of the Builds, chasing massive cash payouts while the crowd watches the carnage. If you want speed over deep water, you can also hit the Crosxs UTV Short Course to test your suspension travel. Just remember that pushing hard in these pits usually ends with snapped axles or a podium finish.

Portal Lifts, Snorkels, and Custom Rigs. This is side-by-side and four-wheeler country—leave the trucks and Jeeps at home. You’ll be riding with tricked-out Polaris RZRs and Can-Am Mavericks built for deep-water survival. Portals and gear lifts rule the trenches, and monster mud tires like High Lifter Outlaws or Assassins are your ticket to ride. Tall snorkels and relocated radiators are a must. Show up with a stock machine and no winch, and you’re just volunteering to be the next trail plug.

The Largest Mud Party in the South. Hillarosa isn’t just a park—it’s a high-octane festival where the party hits as hard as the trails. By day, crowds line the bounty holes, drinks in hand, cheering as rigs push their limits. When night falls, everyone heads to Outlaw Island for bonfires, laser shows, and wild nightlife. Country stars light up the Blackwood Lumber Stage while custom rigs blast tunes overhead. It gets rowdy, so expect off-duty police to keep the chaos in check. Want the wildest mud party around? This is it.

Advanced Mud Recovery and Throttle Discipline. Sure, there are a few easy roads, but if you want to survive the heart of Hillarosa, you’d better bring your A-game. Advanced mud recovery isn’t optional—it’s survival. Know how to feather your throttle to keep moving in thick clay, and master your winch before you’re knee-deep in trouble. Misjudge a creek crossing and forget your air intake, and you’ll be hoofing it back to the truck with a hydro-locked motor. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

---

Basecamp: Amenities, Camping, and On‑Site Services

The Gate and Variable Schedule. Roll up to 6252 Highway 29 North in Blevins, but stash your credit cards—this gate is cash only. Don’t just show up on a random Tuesday expecting mud. Hillarosa only opens for big events and select mud weekends. Want to make sure the gates are open before you burn diesel? Call ahead or shoot them an email. Save yourself the wasted trip.

Dry Camping and Limited Power. There’s plenty of open field to drop your toy hauler for dry camping—just ten bucks. Prefer to rough it? Primitive tent camping is free with your entry. Need to run that monster AC unit? There are a handful of 30-amp electric sites with water hookups, but they fill up faster than a flooded air box, so reserve early. Hate hauling an RV? There’s one rustic cabin with bunks, electricity, and a spigot for blasting off the Arkansas clay.

Wash Stations and High-Volume Crowds. Scrubbing off Arkansas mud takes serious water pressure, so hit the shower house to blast the clay out of your hair after a wild day. With big crowds, expect plenty of event toilets scattered around. You’ll spot a few dogs at camp, but think twice before bringing your own—between the roaring exhausts, pounding audio, and swamp warnings, this is no place for a nervous pup.

Ice, Firewood, and Local Fuel. Stock up on firewood and big bags of ice right at the front gate. Blevins is tiny—don’t expect mega grocery stores or auto parts warehouses. Run out of fuel in the mud? No worries. Head a few miles south to the Blevin’s Red-E-Mart to top off your tanks, grab gas for the generator, and snag some snacks before diving back into the dirt.

The Vendor Village and Broken Metal. On a regular weekend, don’t expect a pit crew waiting to fix your busted axles. But during big rallies like the High Lifter Mud Nationals, the fields turn into a vendor city. Aftermarket parts dealers and pop-up mechanics swap blown belts and weld snapped arms, while food trailers serve up hot barbecue and burgers to thousands of hungry riders. The vendor area is where everyone gathers to show off their rigs and swap stories. Don’t miss it.

Night Rules and Broken Glass Bans. After dark, the rules change with the event. Most of the action moves from the deep mud to the vendor stages and roaring bonfires. Leave the glass bottles at home—broken glass in the mud is a hidden razor for tires and toes. Expect plenty of security and off-duty police to keep the party in check and curb the chaos.

---

The Damage: Trail Passes, Pricing, and Add-ons

Gate Fees and Cash Rules. This is private land, so do not roll up on a random Tuesday expecting to ride. The gates stay locked tight until a designated event weekend kicks off. When they finally swing open, they stay open around the clock until the mud party ends. Expect to pay 40 bucks per person for standard weekend admission at the gate. If you show up with plastic, you will be turning right around to find a small-town ATM, because this gate is strictly cash only. Kids twelve and under get to ride the trails for free on standard weekends.

Major Event Tickets and Machine Bans. When the massive mega-events roll into town, the pricing structure shifts to match the heavy mechanical chaos. A five-day general admission pass for a monster rally like the High Lifter Mud Nationals will run you about one hundred and twenty dollars. The free entry age limit also drops to kids six and under during these massive festivals. You are paying for the person, not the rig, meaning there are no extra trail passes or state OHV stickers required to hit the mud. Just remember that heavy highway trucks, SUVs, and unregistered dune buggies are strictly banned from crossing that front gate.

Dry Camping and Electric Hookups. Sleeping out in the dirt will not empty your wallet if you keep things simple. Primitive tent camping is included with your general admission ticket. If you drag a heavy toy hauler onto the grass for dry camping, you only owe a flat ten-dollar fee. The park does not nickel-and-dime you with extra charges for your tow rigs or extra haul vehicles. If you want one of the highly coveted spots with full water and electric hookups, you must call the park directly to reserve it well before the event starts.

Hidden Costs and Sunk Machines. The real hit to your wallet isn’t the ticket—it’s the Arkansas clay. This mud chews up stock machines, shreds drive belts, and cooks radiators in minutes. Dive into the deep stuff without big mud tires, portal lifts, and a beefy winch, and you’ll break something pricey. There’s no official recovery fee, but getting swallowed by a mud pit will cost you. Be ready to hand over a stack of cash to a fellow rider or vendor to haul your rig out of the swamp.

---

The Technicals: Trail Obstacles, Terrain Types, and Difficulty

Wide Stances and Banned Iron. You can bring an ATV, a side-by-side, or a dirt bike to tear up this Arkansas clay. Full-size SUVs, registered Jeeps, and sand rails are strictly barred from crossing the property line. Because this is private dirt, you will not find any federal sixty-four-inch width limits ruining your day. You are free to run massive, portal-lifted machines with a wide track width to keep you stable in the deep ruts. You do not even need whip flags or spark arrestors, but you must strap into your factory seatbelts before you drop the hammer.

Water Depth Trumps Trail Ratings. Don’t bother looking for green circles or black diamonds—this isn’t a ski resort. Out here, the only rating that matters is how deep the mud is after the last rain. Trails are named, not rated, so pick your poison: UTV Short Course, Bounty Pits, and more. The gates stay locked until festival weekends, so the mud is always fresh and ready to punish the first brave souls through.

Self-Recovery and Heavy Tractors. You’ll sign a waiver—if you snap a drive shaft or drown your engine, that’s on you. This is a self-recovery zone, and a high-torque winch is your best friend. Sink your rig on the edge of the property? Hope you’ve got a buddy with a snatch block to yank you free. During big races, tractors and dozers stand by to drag out the casualties, but if you’re just playing in the backwoods, you’re on your own. Bring your recovery game.

Screaming Engines and Sleeping Hours. Out here, nobody cares about decibel limits—run straight pipes and let your exhaust roar. But when night falls, quiet hours kick in. Kill the overhead audio and stop bouncing off the rev limiter so the RV crowd can catch some sleep before another day of mud and mayhem. Keep the party too loud, and security will shut you down. Play hard, but let folks rest.

Off-Duty Badges and Broken Glass. You can absolutely drink cold beers back at your campsite after the engines cool down. But operating a side-by-side while impaired or hauling an open container down the trail will get you locked up. Off-duty local police heavily patrol this property during major events to drag drunk drivers right out of the driver's seat. You are also strictly forbidden from bringing glass bottles past the front gate. Broken glass hides perfectly in the thick mud and slices open heavy mud tires and bare feet like a sharp razor.

Diseased Swamps and Arkansas Wildlife. This place was a cattle farm, but the woods still bite back. The waivers warn you: there’s wild stuff hiding in the brush. Expect dirt erosion, old hunting blinds, and swamp water that’s best avoided. Step off the packed dirt, and you might meet wild hogs or a snake lurking by the creek. Mother Nature doesn’t care how much you spent on your suspension if you step on a copperhead. Stay sharp.

---

The Final Throttle: What to Know Before You Go

Before you roll through the gate, fill every tank and jerry can at the Blevin’s Red-E-Mart down the road. Once you’re parked in the vendor village, fighting event traffic for fuel is a nightmare. Bring all the clean water you’ll need—when your radiator clogs with clay or you get a face full of swamp water, you’ll be glad you packed extra to flush your eyes and cool your engine. Don’t get caught thirsty.

Don’t count on your cell phone to save you when an axle snaps in the creek. With 8,000 rowdy fans in town, the cell towers tap out and your mobile data is toast. Bring GMRS radios to keep your crew connected over the roar of open exhausts. If things go sideways and someone takes a hard hit, Wadley Regional Medical Center in Hope is your closest hospital. Plan ahead and ride smart.

Surviving this mud means packing a big winch, heavy snatch blocks, and thick recovery straps on your roll cage. But here’s the best part: when the dirt starts eating rigs, everyone pitches in. Bury your machine in the Sportsman Bounty Hole and strangers will wade into waist-deep muck to help pull you out. Just pack out your trash and respect the fences—this wild playground is still a family farm at heart.

This property hosts the largest mud party on earth, and you must fully embrace that wild, high-RPM chaos. As Grant Perkins from High Lifter warns, "Within a few minutes, you could go from riding in a hard bottom creek enjoying the scenery, to tight technical trail riding, and then right into some of the thickest gumbo mud you could ask for." That is the true, raw heartbeat of Hillarosa. It is a violent, shifting landscape built to test the absolute mechanical limits of every single machine that hits the dirt.