Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Adirondack High School Pond is a one-acre water tucked into the Old Forge area — small enough that it likely serves more as a landmark or a local reference point than a paddling or fishing destination. No fish species on record, no marked trails leading in, no backcountry sites to pitch a tent. If you're driving through Old Forge and hear locals mention it by name, now you know: it's on the map, it's real, and it's exactly as modest as the acreage suggests.
Airport Pond is a 6-acre water tucked somewhere in the Old Forge region — the kind of small, named pond that shows up on USGS maps but doesn't generate trail signs or DEC literature. No fish stocking records on file, no established access points in the usual references, and the name suggests it's tied to some airstrip history that may or may not still exist. These off-grid ponds tend to sit on private land or require bushwhacking through working forest, which means they're either local secrets or legitimately inaccessible depending on who owns the shoreline. If you're poking around Old Forge backcountry and stumble on it, you've done the work.
Albia Pond is a five-acre pocket of water in the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, secluded enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational lists. No fish data on file with DEC, which either means it hasn't been surveyed recently or it's been written off as marginal habitat. The pond sits in a transition zone where the southern Adirondacks soften into mixed hardwood valleys — less dramatic than the High Peaks corridor, but quieter by an order of magnitude. Worth confirming access status locally before making the drive; many small ponds in this drainage are landlocked or reach-limited.
Alder Pond is a 32-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — low-profile, no documented fishery, and far enough off the main corridors that it doesn't show up in the usual rotation of family camping destinations or trailhead parking lots. The name suggests wetland margins and beaver activity, which typically means shallow water, emergent vegetation, and the kind of paddling that rewards patience more than distance. Without established trail access or lean-to infrastructure in the public record, this is a pond that belongs to locals with land access or paddlers willing to scout the shoreline for put-in options. Check DEC land records and topo maps before committing to a visit.
Alford Pond is a 37-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough to fish from shore in an afternoon, large enough to paddle without feeling hemmed in. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either not stocked or not regularly surveyed; bring a map-and-compass set if you're exploring the surrounding terrain. The pond sits off the main recreation corridors, so it doesn't pull the weekend crowds that trail-accessible waters do — a quiet alternative when the Lake Placid area is running at capacity. Worth a call to the Ray Brook DEC office for current access details.
Allen Pond is a 16-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to slip past most paddlers, quiet enough to hold that status. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means wild brookies or nothing at all; either way, it's the kind of pond that rewards low expectations and a canoe you don't mind dragging. The Tupper Lake area holds dozens of these modest ponds tucked between working forest and state land — some with road access, some with old logging traces, most with beaver activity that rewrites the shoreline every few years. Worth a look if you're already in the area and hunting for solitude over scenery.
Alligator Pond is a 17-acre water tucked into the southeastern Adirondacks near Brant Lake — small enough to fall off most recreation maps, large enough to hold its own shoreline character. The name suggests either frontier-era humor or a long-ago sighting that became local lore, but the pond itself is quiet, wooded, and typical of the low-elevation ponds that dot the hill country between Schroon Lake and Lake George. No fish data on record, which usually means either marginal habitat or a pond that hasn't seen a survey crew in decades. Worth a look if you're already in the Brant Lake area and collecting water names.
Aluminum Pond is a 9-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddling itineraries, tucked into the wooded backcountry where the state land holdings fracture into a patchwork of private inholdings and old logging corridors. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked stillwater or a pond that hasn't been surveyed in decades — common for the smaller named waters in this part of the Park. Access details are sparse; if you're headed in, confirm current trail conditions and land status with the local DEC ranger or outfitter in Raquette Lake village before you bushwhack.
Andrew Pond is a backcountry pond accessible by unmarked routes from the St. Regis Canoe Area. No official trail — navigation skills required; visit for solitude rather than size or fish.
Antediluvian Pond — 23 acres in the Long Lake township — carries one of the more memorable names in the Adirondack water inventory, though the access and fishing details remain thin in the record. The pond sits off the main corridor, outside the typical loop of paddling routes and trailhead networks that define the central Long Lake region. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked and unsampled or too remote to justify the survey work. Worth a map check if you're plotting something deep in the Long Lake wild forest blocks — sometimes the best ponds are the ones without the backstory.
Arbuckle Pond is a 41-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of the smaller, lesser-documented ponds in a watershed thick with them. No official fish stocking records and no marked lean-tos or maintained access trails in the DEC catalog, which means it likely sees pressure only from locals who know the old logging roads or from paddlers threading through the larger lake systems nearby. In a region defined by bigger destinations — Tupper Lake proper, the Bog River flow, Raquette River access — Arbuckle sits in that middle category: not remote enough to be truly wild, not developed enough to show up on the summer lake-house circuit. Worth checking local outfitters or the town clerk's office in Tupper Lake if you're hunting quiet water off the standard routes.
Arbutus Pond is a 121-acre water in the Long Lake township — large enough to hold some depth and structure, but off the main corridor and quiet for it. No fish data on record with DEC, which usually means either unstocked and unfished or holding wild brookies that nobody's bothered to survey; either way, it's not a destination fishery. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and conifer cover typical of the central Adirondacks — the kind of water that gets paddled by people staying nearby but rarely sought out from distance. Worth checking local access in Long Lake village; some township waters have informal launch points that aren't marked on the state maps.
Archer Vly sits in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — a 24-acre pond in country that leans more toward second-home development and lakefront settlements than trailhead-to-lean-to hiking. The name *vly* (Dutch for valley or wetland) marks it as one of the low-lying waters common to the southern Adirondacks, where the topography flattens out and the glacial basins hold quieter, warmer ponds than their High Peaks counterparts. No fish species on record and no nearby trail inventory — this is off-the-grid water, likely private-access or tucked into a patchwork of posted land. Worth a look on the DeLorme if you're chasing the obscure edges of the Park boundary.
Arnold Pond is a small, remote pond accessed via unmarked routes through state land. No maintained trail leads to it — navigation skills required, and the effort keeps most visitors away.
Arquett Pond is a 17-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold a quiet morning if you can find it. No fish data on file, no marked trails in the public record, and no nearby peaks to anchor it on a hiking map — this is the kind of pond that shows up on a USGS quad and then waits to be rediscovered. Access likely involves bushwhacking or private land negotiations, which means it stays off the weekend circuit. If you know where it is, you know why you're there.
Ash Craft Pond is a 23-acre water tucked into the Keene Valley backcountry — small enough to stay off most hiking itineraries, large enough to hold its own quiet. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means wild brookies or nothing at all; local anglers know which. The pond sits in that middle distance where casual day-trippers thin out and the overnight crowd hasn't quite arrived — the kind of water that rewards anyone willing to work past the roadside destinations. Worth confirming access and current trail conditions with the DEC Ray Brook office before committing to the approach.
Ash Pond is a one-acre pocket tucked into the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational radar, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. Waters this size in the southern Adirondacks often sit on private land or require bushwhacking through second-growth forest; without a clear trailhead or DEC signage, Ash Pond reads more like a cartographic footnote than a destination. No fish species data on record, which typically means limited if any stocking history. If you're hunting it down, confirm land status and access before heading in.
Ash Pond is a small five-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of pond that exists more on the DEC inventory than in the typical paddler's rotation. No fish data on record, no trail register at a trailhead, no lean-to marked on the quad map. It sits in that broad middle ground between the named features tourists chase and the swampy patches locals pass on the way to bigger water — likely accessible by bushwhack or logging road if you're motivated, but the effort-to-reward calculus skews toward leaving it for the beavers. If you're chasing solitude for solitude's sake, this is the kind of place that delivers.
Austin Pond sits a few miles west of Brant Lake village — a 35-acre private water tucked into the foothills, not a destination for through-hikers or public access seekers. The pond belongs to the cluster of small, residential waters that define this corner of Warren County: shoreline camps, a quiet surface, no DEC signage or trailhead parking. No fish species data on file, which usually means either private stocking or unstocked holdover brookies from decades past. If you're not a landowner or a guest, this one stays on the map as a name only.
