Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Balsam Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to be off the radar for most anglers and paddlers, which is usually the point of a pond this size. No fish data on record, no designated campsites, no named peaks within striking distance — it reads more like a local reference point than a destination, the kind of water that shows up on a topo map but not in a guidebook. If you're looking for solitude and you know how to get there, it delivers. If you don't know how to get there, it's probably staying quiet.
Barney Pond is a 23-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to stay off most recreation radars, large enough to hold its own shoreline character. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either marginal habitat (shallow, warm, low oxygen in winter) or simply that DEC hasn't surveyed it in the modern database era. Access details are sparse in the public record; if there's no obvious roadside pull-off or marked trailhead, it's likely tucked into private or working forest land. Worth a call to the local DEC office in Ray Brook if you're serious about reaching it.
Bay Pond sits northwest of Tupper Lake village — a 234-acre water that holds middle ground between the public-access ponds closer to town and the deeper backcountry clusters toward Cranberry Lake. The size puts it in contention for canoe exploration rather than a quick swim stop, but without fish stocking records or maintained access intel in the DEC database, it's likely a local-knowledge water or private-access situation. The Tupper Lake Wild Forest wraps much of this drainage, so there's public land in the area, but approach routes aren't always obvious from the road. Worth a call to the regional DEC office or a chat at Raquette River Outfitters before loading the boat.
Bear Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than motorboats, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. No fish species data on file, which in the Adirondacks usually means either truly wild brook trout that no one's bothered to survey, or a shallow basin that winters out. The name suggests old trapper geography; ponds this size were often named for whatever walked past camp. Worth investigating if you're already in the area with a topo map and a tolerance for bushwhacking.
Beaver Pond is a 20-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of dozens of small waters in the area that share the name, a reminder that beaver engineering shaped more of this landscape than the logging era that followed. Without fish stocking records or nearby trail infrastructure in the directory, this is likely a put-in-and-paddle destination: check topographic maps for forest road access and expect shallow water, stumps, and active beaver work at the inlet. The Tupper Lake wild forest holds enough unnamed ponds and beaver flows to keep a canoe explorer busy for seasons. Bring a compass and a DeLorme.
Bens Pond is a three-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely holds more interest for the landowner or the local who knows how to reach it than for the through-hiker or the touring paddler. No fish species on record, no nearby trail infrastructure in the public datasets, which usually means private land or a walk-in from a seasonal road that doesn't show up on the DEC map. These small ponds scatter across the northern Adirondacks by the hundreds — some eventually open to public access, most stay quiet. If you're headed to Tupper Lake for Raquette River paddling or Rock Pond trail access, Bens Pond stays off the list unless you know someone with a key.
Benson Mines sits west of Tupper Lake village — a 267-acre pond named for the Star Lake Iron Company mine operations that defined this corner of the park in the late 1800s. The water is part of the Raquette River drainage, tucked into second-growth forest where the extractive economy left its mark and moved on. No fish data on record, which generally signals either marginal habitat or a pond that hasn't seen stocking pressure in decades. Access details are sparse — this is working forest land with a mining legacy, not a recreation destination with marked trailheads and DEC campsites.
Benz Pond is a 26-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to stay off most touring circuits, large enough to hold a canoe morning without feeling landlocked. No fish data on record, which typically signals either an unstocked pond or one that's gone fallow between DEC surveys; worth a cast if you're passing through, but don't plan the trip around it. Access details are sparse in the standard references — likely a bushwhack or unmarked woods road approach, which keeps the shoreline quiet and the put-in to yourself. If you're already in the area with a light boat and a taste for exploration, Benz is the kind of pond that rewards the effort with solitude more than scenery.
Bessie Pond is an 18-acre water tucked into the working forest west of Tupper Lake — small enough to paddle in an hour, remote enough that you won't share it with anyone on a Tuesday in June. No formal trail, no DEC campsite, no fish stocking records in the state database — this is more exploratory bushwhack than destination hike, the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map when you're plotting a longer route and makes you wonder if it's worth the detour. If you're camped at one of the nearby private sites or hunting camp access points and you've got a canoe, it's worth the look; otherwise, it stays quiet.
Black Creek is a 6-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't show up on many road maps, and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked native brookies or a pond that winters out; locals would know. The name suggests a darker-water inlet or outlet stream, common in the mid-elevation softwood drainages west of the High Peaks. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake backcountry and stumble on it, you've likely got the place to yourself.
Black Pond sits in the Tupper Lake wild — 25 acres of undeveloped water with no recorded fish surveys and no trail infrastructure to speak of. This is the category of Adirondack pond that only shows up on a DeLorme map or a USGS quad: if you're here, you came in on purpose, probably bushwhacking from a logging road or following old hunter routes that aren't maintained for public traffic. The lack of data is the data — Black Pond is one of the Park's unmanaged, unmonitored waters where the only amenity is solitude. Expect wetland shoreline, blowdown, and the possibility you'll have it to yourself.
Black Pond sits in the Tupper Lake Wild Forest — 34 acres tucked into working forest country where state land meets private timber tracts and the paddling tends toward stillwater and beaver flowage rather than designated wilderness. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means native brookies if anything, or a pond that winters out. The absence of nearby trail infrastructure or formal access points suggests this is drive-by territory: visible from a logging road or private gate, fishable if you know the landowner, otherwise a dot on the DEC inventory rather than a destination. Worth a DeLorme check and a polite conversation before assuming public access.
Black Pond is a 19-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to fish from shore, large enough to justify a canoe if you can get one in. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means wild brookies or nothing, and in ponds this size that usually depends on whether the inlet stream runs year-round. Access details are scarce in the public record, so if you're planning a trip, confirm the route with a local outfitter or the DEC Ray Brook office before you commit to the drive.
Blind Pond is a 19-acre water in the Tupper Lake township — small enough to slip past notice, remote enough that access details don't circulate widely, and unnamed on most recreational maps despite holding a place name in the DEC inventory. No fish survey data on record, which typically means either the pond doesn't hold fish naturally or it hasn't drawn enough angling pressure to warrant sampling. The name suggests either visual obscurity from surrounding terrain or historical logging-era usage — "blind" ponds often sat tucked behind ridgelines or timber operations. Worth noting only if you're cataloging every named water in the Park or hunting for genuine solitude within snowshoe range of Tupper Lake.
Blind Pond is a nine-acre water tucked into the working forest north of Tupper Lake — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational radar, quiet enough that it holds onto that backcountry feel even when the bigger lakes are busy. No formal access or developed trails mean it's mostly a destination for locals who know the logging roads or paddlers willing to bushwhack in from nearby put-ins. No fish data on record, which likely means it's been overlooked by DEC surveys rather than fishless — worth a scouting trip if you're the type who likes ponds that don't make it into the guidebooks. Bring a compass and a good topo; cell service out here is a coin flip.
Blue Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on casual planning radars, but large enough to paddle if you can get a boat in. No fish species on DEC record, which usually means it's either too shallow to winter-stock or simply off the stocking rotation. Access details are sparse in the public datasets, so assume this is either private-access or a bushwhack proposition unless you know the local roads. Worth a call to a Tupper Lake outfitter or the regional DEC office if you're chasing unmapped water in the area.
Blue Pond is a 20-acre water in the Tupper Lake region with no public species data on file — which in Adirondack terms usually means either private access, minimal pressure, or both. The name suggests it's been around long enough to earn local usage, but without a documented trail or DEC designation it's not showing up on the standard loop. Waters this size in the Tupper Lake corridor sometimes hold brook trout or perch if they're connected to larger systems, but you'd need local knowledge or a knock on the right camp door to confirm. If you're researching it for a paddle or a fish, start with the Tupper Lake town clerk or a conversation at the boat launch — someone will know which Blue Pond you're after.
Boottree Pond is a 20-acre stillwater in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to hold no formal fish surveys, quiet enough to stay off most paddling itineraries. The name suggests old logging-era nomenclature, though the pond itself sits in working forest country where access typically means gated logging roads or bushwhacking from nearby paved routes. No designated campsites, no marked trails, no stocked fish on record — this is the kind of water that shows up on a topo map and stays that way. If you're after solitude and can navigate by contour lines, Boottree delivers; if you need a trailhead and a DEC sign, keep driving toward the Wild Forest units closer to town.
Boyd Pond is an 86-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — large enough to paddle but off the main lodge-and-resort circuit that defines much of the town's shoreline. No fish species data on file with DEC, which typically means limited angling pressure and uncertain natural reproduction, though brook trout have a way of showing up in quiet Adirondack ponds where the pH and temperature hold. The pond sits in second-growth forest, accessible by local roads rather than trailheads, and it's the kind of place that gets fished by people who live within ten minutes rather than tourists driving through. Bring a canoe if you're scouting it — the shoreline will tell you more than the map.
Bridge Brook Pond spreads across 125 acres in the Tupper Lake region — a mid-sized water without the trail traffic or documented fishery that pulls attention to more accessible ponds in the area. The name suggests a feeder stream crossing, likely along one of the old logging corridors that web through this part of the northern Adirondacks, though public access details remain sparse in state records. No stocked species on file with DEC, which typically means either wild brookies in low density or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter drawdown. Worth a look if you're already working nearby trailheads or paddling the Raquette drainage — but confirm access and conditions locally before committing the drive.
Brother Ponds is a 13-acre backcountry water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers in a given summer. No fish stocking records on file, which isn't unusual for remote ponds this size; they're either wild brook trout nurseries or fishless entirely, and you won't know until you get there. The name suggests a paired-pond system, common in glacial till country where kettles form in clusters. Access details are sparse — assume a bushwhack or an unmaintained trail from a nearby forest road, and plan accordingly with map, compass, and low expectations for signage.
Brother Ponds is a 38-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — paired ponds that share a name but little else in common with the hundreds of better-documented waters across the Park. No fish stocking records, no marked trailhead on the DEC roster, no lean-to within the usual hiking radius. It's the kind of place that exists on the map as a placeholder until someone with a canoe, a GPS track, and a fishing report fills in the details. If you've fished it or found the access, you're ahead of the database.
Brother Ponds — two small connected basins totaling nine acres — sits in the working forest southwest of Tupper Lake, accessible via seasonal logging roads that shift status depending on timber operations and landowner agreements. No formal trailhead, no lean-tos, no stocking records in the DEC database. This is the kind of water that shows up on a topo map but not in a guidebook — worth the navigation if you're already in the area with a canoe and a sense of direction, but not a destination pond on its own. Check current access and landowner postings before heading in.
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.
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.
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.
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.
