Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Buck Pond is a 14-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on conversation but documented enough to have a name and a shoreline. No fish data on file, no maintained trail markers in the immediate vicinity, no lean-tos or designated campsites that tie directly to the pond itself. It sits in that middle category of Adirondack ponds: neither a destination nor entirely off-grid, just a named piece of water in a forested township where most of the real estate is working timber or private hold. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake backcountry with a map and a full afternoon, it's there — but it won't be crowded.
Buck Pond is an 11-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more local use than through-traffic, and the kind of pond that doesn't generate much fisheries data or formal DEC management. Without documented fish populations or maintained access points in the public record, it falls into that middle category of Adirondack ponds: named, mapped, but not programmed for heavy recreational use. If you're looking for it, check USGS quads and property boundaries — some of these smaller waters sit on mixed public-private land or require bushwhacking from nearby road or trail networks. Worth a look if you're already in the area and chasing completeness.
Buck Pond is a 13-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to hold no state fish stocking records and quiet enough to stay off most paddling itineraries. It sits in the working landscape south of the Fulton Chain, where private holdings and seasonal camps break up the more continuous state forest you find deeper in the park. No known public access or trail system links it to the broader Old Forge lake network, so it remains functionally private or landlocked. If you're chasing named waters on a map, this one stays a pin drop.
Buck Pond is an 8-acre water in the Speculator region — small enough that it rarely pulls a crowd, large enough that it holds water through a dry August. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies that never got surveyed or a pond that winterkills in lean snow years. The name suggests old logging-camp vernacular (buck ponds were often named for deer yarding areas or supply depots), though the specific history here isn't documented. Access details are sparse — worth a call to the local DEC office or the Speculator town clerk if you're planning a trip.
Buck Pond is a small seven-acre water in the Speculator area — one of those named ponds that shows up on the map without much fanfare and without much pressure. No fish stocking records on file, no designated campsites, no trailhead sign pointing you in — which means it's either a local spot with informal access or a pond that gets more attention from moose than from anglers. If you're in the area and have a topo map, it's worth the reconnaissance; if not, there are bigger, better-documented options within a short drive.
Buck Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — part of the broader constellation of ponds and wetlands that define the central Adirondacks' working forest landscape. No fish data on file, which usually means either unstocked headwater habitat or a seasonal wetland that doesn't hold trout through summer drawdown. The name suggests old hunting camp territory, and the acreage puts it in that useful middle ground: too small for most paddlers to seek out on purpose, but exactly the kind of water you stumble into when you're bushwhacking between better-known destinations or poking around old logging roads south of the Blue Line highway corridors.
Buck Pond sits off the Onchiota Road northwest of Saranac Lake village — a 69-acre kettle pond in the rolling terrain between the Saranac Chain and the St. Regis Canoe Area. The pond drains north into the St. Regis drainage and sits in a transition zone: not quite wilderness, not quite village lake, lacking the DEC pressure of the canoe routes but also lacking the boat launch and summer camp density of Lower Saranac. No fish species on record, which usually means either poor habitat or minimal stocking history — worth a call to the local DEC office if you're planning a fishing trip. The name suggests logging-era origins; the acreage suggests a pond worth paddling if you're already in the area.
Buck Pond is a 23-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to paddle in an hour, big enough to feel like a destination rather than a puddle. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked, surveyed decades ago, or too shallow to winter over anything worth catching. The pond sits in the working part of the central Adirondacks where state land, private inholdings, and seasonal camps share the same tax map — access details matter here, so confirm put-in rights before launching. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe on the roof and an afternoon to burn.
Buck Pond is a 10-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational fishing or paddling lists, and remote enough that access details stay local. No fish species on state record, which usually means either limited stocking history or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer. The name suggests old hunting camp or timber-era usage, common in this part of the park where ponds were named for function rather than scenic value. If you're heading out, confirm access and ownership with the local DEC office — many small ponds in this drainage sit on mixed public-private land.
Buck Ponds — plural, though the main basin reads as a single 10-acre pond — sits in the Speculator region without the fanfare of a trailhead sign or a DEC campsite marker. The name suggests old hunting territory or a settler's claim, but the ponds themselves stay quiet in the deeper woods, off the radar of the lake-access crowd that works NY-30 and the Kunjamuk corridor. No fish data on file, no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is the kind of water that only shows up when you're looking at the survey map or walking an unmarked woods road with a compass and time to kill. If you're paddling the region, it's a side note; if you're hunting or snowshoeing the back country south of Speculator, it's a landmark you pass on the way to somewhere else.
Buck Ponds — seven acres tucked somewhere in the Speculator region — is one of those waters that exists on the DEC list but hasn't accumulated much of a paper trail. No fish stocking records, no nearby trailhead chatter, no lean-to or campsite mentions in the usual sources. It's likely a bushwhack or a local-knowledge access, the kind of place that shows up on a USGS quad but not in the hiking guides. If you know the put-in, you know it — otherwise, this one stays quiet.
Buck Ponds sits northwest of Speculator — a 6-acre water that holds the plural name but reads as a single shallow basin, likely named for the deer that work the shoreline during the rut. No formal access or trail registry here; it's either a bushwhack or a local-knowledge put-in, the kind of pond that shows up on the DeLorme but not in the DEC day-tripper literature. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means warmwater opportunists — perch, pickerel, maybe sunfish if the pond doesn't winter-kill. If you know where it is, you already know why you're going.
Bucket Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it lives in the margins of the bigger lake's recreational orbit but remote enough that it's not a roadside stop. No fish stocking records on file, which likely means native brookies if anything, or a warmwater population that never made it onto DEC survey lists. The name suggests old logging or settlement-era use — "bucket" ponds typically marked a water source for camps or work crews — but the specific etymology is lost to local memory. Access details are scarce; if you're looking for it, start with town records in Northville or Day and expect bushwhacking or an unmarked woods road.
Buckhorn Ponds — plural, though the four acres read as a single shallow basin — sit in the working forest south of Speculator, far enough off the main corridors that most visitors arrive by accident or local knowledge. The ponds drain northeast toward the Sacandaga drainage, tucked into second-growth mixed hardwoods with no formal trail access and no DEC fish stocking records. This is quiet-water territory: beaver activity, seasonal waterfowl, and the kind of marshy shoreline that keeps casual foot traffic to a minimum. Worth knowing about if you're already in the area with a canoe and a good map.
Buckhorn Ponds — a seven-acre pair tucked into the woods south of Speculator — sits far enough off the main resort corridors that it doesn't show up on most paddler itineraries, and the state records don't list fish species data, which usually means either occasional brookies or none at all. Access details are thin on the ground; this is backcountry that requires either local knowledge or a willingness to bushwhack with a topo map and a compass bearing. The ponds drain south toward the Sacandaga drainage — remote, quiet, and worth the effort if you're already in the neighborhood and looking for water that doesn't appear on Instagram.
Buckhorn Ponds — plural, though the combined surface barely breaks one acre — sits somewhere in the Speculator township with no formal trail access and no DEC presence on record. These are the kind of named waters that show up on USGS quads but not in guidebooks: wetland pockets in second-growth forest, more beaver meadow than open water, the sort of place you'd only visit if you were bushwhacking between points or chasing old property lines. No fish data, no campsites, no reason to go unless you're the type who needs to see every blue line on the map.
Buddy Pond is a one-acre pocket of water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than motorboats, and remote enough that no fish species data has made it into the DEC records. Waters this size in the southern Adirondacks tend to be tucked into second-growth forest off old logging roads or colonial-era settlement routes, accessible but not advertised. If you're looking for it, bring a topo map and expect to bushwhack the last quarter-mile — ponds under five acres rarely come with marked trails or designated campsites.
Bullet Pond is a small backcountry pond in the High Peaks Wilderness, accessed via bushwhack or rough herd paths. Brook trout hold in its cold water; the shoreline is undeveloped and visits stay light.
Bullet Pond is a small backcountry pond in the northern Adirondacks, reached by bushwhack or unmaintained path. The water holds native brook trout; access requires navigation skills and tolerance for rough going.
Bullhead Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it won't show up on most highway-scale maps, typical of the dozens of named ponds scattered through the working forest and private holdings west of the Blue Line's denser recreational corridors. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system, no lean-tos — this is either private land or a spot that exists more as a named dot than a destination. If you're poking around Tupper Lake's back roads with a DeLorme and a canoe, Bullhead is the kind of place you'd bushwhack to for an hour of quiet water, but you'd confirm access and ownership before you go.
Bullhead Pond is a small 9-acre water tucked into the Old Forge corridor — the kind of pond that doesn't make it into guidebooks but shows up on topo maps and in local conversation. No fish stocking data on record, which usually means either native brookies that don't get reported or a pond that winters too shallow to hold trout year-round. The Old Forge area holds hundreds of similarly sized ponds — some accessible by bushwhack, some by forgotten logging roads, some by canoe routes that branch off the Fulton Chain. Without public access infrastructure, this one stays quiet.
Bullhead Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Speculator area — small enough that it rarely makes the touring lists, which keeps it quiet. No fish stocking records on file, and no formal trail documentation in the DEC system, which typically means either walk-in access from a nearby road or private land in the mix. Waters this size in the southern Adirondacks often sit in mixed-ownership patchwork; check current sportsman access programs or local maps before you put boots down. If it's open, expect shallow water, lily pads by midsummer, and the kind of solitude that comes with ponds under ten acres.
Bullhead Pond is a three-acre water tucked into the southern Adirondacks near the Great Sacandaga Lake — small enough that it doesn't register on most paddlers' radars, which is half the appeal. No fish data on record, no maintained trails advertised, no lean-tos — this is the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC wetlands inventory and gets visited by locals who know the woods or by hunters glassing for sign in October. The Sacandaga corridor holds dozens of ponds like this: unmapped access, shallow water, worth the bushwhack if you're already in the neighborhood. Bring a compass and don't expect company.
Bullhead Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it doesn't register on most paddlers' radar, but that's precisely the appeal. No boat launch, no established DEC trail markers, no fish stocking records to chase: this is the kind of place you find by studying the topo and bushwhacking in with a light canoe or packraft. The water sits in second-growth forest a few miles from the more trafficked Bolton Landing corridor, quiet enough that you'll hear every woodpecker and beaver tail-slap. Bring your own access plan and expect to have the shoreline to yourself.
Bullhead Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, but named and mapped, which means it's on someone's list. No fish data on record, and with that surface area it's likely more frog chorus than angling destination. The name suggests either a stocked past (bullhead ponds were common mill-town put-and-takes in the 19th century) or simple description — bullhead catfish can survive in shallow, weedy basins where trout won't. Access and trail status would need verification with the local DEC ranger or the Wild Forest unit management plan.
Bullhead Pond is an 18-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of the smaller named ponds in a region dense with bigger destinations like Lewey Lake and Cedar River Flow. The pond sits in mixed hardwood cover west of the Cedar River corridor, far enough off the main recreation circuit that it holds onto solitude even during high season. No fish data on record, which typically signals either marginal habitat or a pond that doesn't get surveyed because anglers aren't asking about it. Access details are sparse — check with the Indian Lake town office or local outfitters if you're planning a bushwhack or paddle-in.
Bullhead Pond is a 25-acre kettle pond in the Indian Lake town corridor — tucked into the transition zone where the central Adirondacks flatten out toward the southern lakes. No formal trail data or fish stocking records in the DEC system, which usually means either private-adjacent access or a local knowledge walk-in that hasn't made it onto the state maps. The name suggests either the catfish family or the more common Adirondack pattern of naming ponds after their shoreline profile when viewed from a specific ridgeline. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or the local DEC ranger if you're trying to pin down access — sometimes these smaller waters have informal easements or legacy routes that predate the trail inventory.
Bullhead Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, remote enough that most paddlers skip it for bigger options on the Fulton Chain or further into the Five Ponds Wilderness. No fish species data on file, which usually means limited stocking history and minimal angling pressure, though small Adirondack ponds like this often hold remnant brook trout populations or get overlooked in DEC surveys. Access details are sparse in the regional trail literature; if you're hunting it down, expect either a bushwhack or an unmarked woods road approach typical of the working-forest ponds west of Old Forge.
Bullhead Pond is a nine-acre backcountry pond in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that most hikers pass it without a second look, remote enough that it stays off the casual fishing circuit. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means wild brookies or nothing at all; the DEC doesn't survey every small water in the Park. The pond sits in mixed hardwood forest with no formal trail access marked on state maps — old logging roads and unmaintained footpaths are the usual approach, and conditions vary year to year depending on blowdown and beaver activity. This is a pond for orienteering practice or a deliberate bushwhack, not a Sunday afternoon paddle.
Bullpout Pond is a 13-acre water tucked into the Paradox Lake region — small enough to hold no formal fish stocking records and remote enough to stay off the day-tripper circuit. The name suggests a history of bullhead catfish (bullpout in local usage), though without current species data it's unclear what swims here now. Waters this size in the Paradox drainage typically see light pressure from anglers willing to bushwhack or paddle-and-portage for solitude. Access details are scarce; if you're headed in, confirm the route with DEC or local outfitters before committing the day.
Bullpout Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake country — small enough to miss on a map, named for the bottom-feeding catfish that likely gave early anglers more trouble than table fare. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and hemlock cover typical of the eastern Adirondacks, where the terrain softens between the High Peaks and Lake Champlain valley. No maintained trail, no DEC designation, no stocking records — this is the kind of water that stays quiet because it offers solitude more than scenery or sport fish. Worth knowing if you're working the Paradox drainage or looking for a bushwhack objective that won't show up on anyone's weekend itinerary.
Bum Pond is a 38-acre water tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that you won't share it with anyone unless you try. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trail system radiating from the shoreline, no lean-to — this is the kind of pond that exists because the glaciers left it here, not because the state promoted it. Access details are scarce, which in the Adirondacks usually means old logging roads, property-line ambiguity, or both. Worth the effort if you're already in Long Lake with a canoe on the roof and an afternoon to kill.
Bumbo Pond is a seven-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — low-profile, lightly visited, and the kind of place that stays off most hiking itineraries not because it's remote but because it doesn't announce itself. The name alone (likely a corruption of an older surveyor's term or local nickname) hints at its backstory as a working-landscape water rather than a scenic destination. No fish stocking records on file, no established trail system, no lean-to — this is a pond for the orienteering types who treat the DEC unit management plan maps as invitations. If you're already in the area for Paradox Lake itself, Bumbo makes a reasonable bushwhack objective; otherwise, it's a dot on the map that rewards exactly the effort you put into finding it.
Bumps Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Lake George region — small enough that it doesn't pull much attention from the bigger named lakes nearby, but the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map and makes you wonder who fished it last. No species data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked and unfished or too shallow to hold trout through the summer. The name suggests old surveyor's slang or a long-gone local landmark — *bumps* as terrain feature, not personality. Worth a look if you're working through the lesser-known waters in the southern park, but set expectations accordingly.
Bundy Pond is a one-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of place that shows up on USGS quads but rarely in conversation. No fish stocking records, no formal trail system, no DEC campsite designations — which means it's either a local spot reached by old logging roads and property lines, or it's too shallow and weedy to hold much beyond frogs and damselflies by midsummer. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and ownership before you bushwhack; many small ponds in this region sit on private timberland or require permission. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe and a sense of adventure, but set expectations accordingly.
Burge Pond is a nine-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to miss on most maps, tucked into the wooded mid-elevation terrain east of Schroon Lake. No developed access, no fish stocking records, no trail register at a trailhead — this is the kind of pond that exists for the landowner, the surveyor, and the occasional bushwhacker with a GPS waypoint. The Paradox drainage holds dozens of these unnamed or under-documented waters; Burge is simply one with a name on the DEC inventory. If you're looking for public fishing or a lean-to, stick to Paradox Lake itself — bigger water, boat launch, brook trout, and a reason to be there.
Burnt Pond is a 45-acre water tucked into the southeastern Adirondacks near Brant Lake — far enough from the High Peaks corridor to stay off most weekend itineraries. The pond sits in what was historically working forest, part of the patchwork of private and public land that defines the southern foothills; access and usage rights vary and should be confirmed locally before heading in. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means natural brook trout or nothing at all — worth a cast if you can get to it. The Brant Lake region skews more toward lakeside summer rentals than backcountry, so Burnt Pond reads as a quiet outlier in a neighborhood built for motorboats and docks.
Burntbridge Pond is a 58-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the name suggests old logging territory, common across this part of the northwestern park where fire and timber crews left their mark in place names and overgrown tote roads. Without maintained trail or public boat launch data on record, access likely runs through private land or requires local knowledge of unmapped put-ins. No fish species data in the DEC surveys, which typically means either limited stocking history or a pond that doesn't pull angler attention — worth a call to a Tupper Lake bait shop if you're serious about finding it.
Burris Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that you'll find it only on detailed topographic maps, and remote enough that most anglers and paddlers pass through this corner of Essex County without knowing it's there. No fish species on record, no formal access noted, no nearby peaks to anchor it in the mental map of the High Peaks hiker. This is the kind of water that matters to the bushwhacker, the solitude-seeker, or the local who knows the old logging roads — a dot on the map in country where dots matter more than names.
Butler Pond sits in the Lake George Wild Forest — 102 acres of quiet water in a region better known for shoreline estates and motorboat traffic. The pond holds no fish stocking records and sees minimal angling pressure; most visitors are hikers threading through on snowmobile trails that double as foot access in summer, or hunters working the surrounding hardwood ridges in October. No designated campsites, no boat launch, no crowds — which is exactly the point if you're looking for a placeholder swim or a lunch stop between trailheads. Check the DEC Wild Forest map for the nearest seasonal access; conditions and trail status shift year to year.
Buttermilk Pond is a 21-acre water tucked into the Brant Lake region — small enough to feel like a local spot, large enough to hold interest if you're fishing blind or paddling for solitude. No official fish species data on record, which usually means it's either been overlooked by DEC surveys or holds wild brookies that don't get reported. The pond sits away from the main tourist corridors — no named peaks looming overhead, no trailhead signs on the highway — so access is likely via town or private roads, and worth confirming locally before you load the canoe. If you're staying near Brant Lake and want water that isn't Brant Lake, this is the kind of place that rewards the ask-around.
Butternut Pond is a 159-acre water in the Keene Valley corridor — large enough to hold decent depth and structure, but off the main trail network and absent from most fishing reports. No documented stocking or species surveys in the DEC records, which usually means either legacy brookies that haven't been sampled in decades or a pond that doesn't winter well enough to hold trout year-round. Access likely requires bushwhacking or following old logging roads — the kind of water that shows up on the topo but not in the trail register. If you're looking for solitude and don't mind uncertain fishing, ponds like this are the reason people still carry a compass.
