Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Cross Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Brant Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull much traffic, quiet enough that it's easy to forget it's there. No fish records on file, no marked trailheads advertising access, no DEC campsites within the immediate corridor. It's the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map when you're headed somewhere else — worth a note if you're working through the Brant Lake drainage system or scouting off-trail routes, but not a destination on its own. If you're planning a visit, confirm access and ownership lines locally before you go.
Crossett Pond is a 125-acre water in the southern Adirondacks near the Lake George region — large enough to paddle but small enough to stay off the radar of most through-traffic heading to the big lakes. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either been forgotten by the DEC surveys or it's too shallow and weedy to hold much of interest to anglers. The pond sits in working forest land, so access and surrounding conditions depend on current timber company policy and seasonal road status. If you're mapping ponds in this corner of the park, Crossett is a name you'll see on the quad — but expect to do some homework before you launch.
Crotched Pond sits off the radar in the Indian Lake township — 63 acres with no DEC fish survey on record and no obvious trailhead pull-offs to mark it on a road map. The name shows up on USGS quads and in the occasional paddling guide, but details are thin: private land complicates access, and the pond doesn't anchor any known lean-to loop or bushwhack route to a nearby summit. This is the kind of water that rewards local knowledge or a property boundary search before you commit to finding it. If you do get there, expect solitude — and bring a topo.
Crowfoot Pond is a 35-acre water tucked into the Paradox Lake region — the eastern Adirondacks where the terrain flattens out from the High Peaks and the ponds tend to be quieter, less trafficked, and harder to pin down in the guidebooks. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies that never made it into DEC surveys or a pond that doesn't hold fish through the winter. The name suggests either a shape best seen from above or an old trapper's reference long since forgotten. Worth checking the DEC Unit Management Plan for the area if you're planning a visit — access and allowed uses vary widely in this corner of the park.
Cummings Pond is a 30-acre pocket water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — low-elevation, accessible country outside the Blue Line's dense core. No fish species data on file, which usually means it's either never been stocked or the surveys are decades old; worth a call to the regional DEC office if you're planning to wet a line. The Great Sacandaga corridor runs more to motorboats and summer camps than backwoods solitude, so Cummings likely sits in mixed-use territory — old logging roads, seasonal camps, and the kind of access that requires asking around locally. If you're planning a trip, confirm access and current conditions before you load the canoe.
Curtis Pond is a 20-acre water in the Tupper Lake township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the working forest west of Tupper Lake village, most of them accessed by private logging roads or unmaintained routes that shift with active timber management. The state owns no formal public access point, which keeps the pond off most paddlers' lists and limits use to locals who know the current road conditions and landowner arrangements. No fish stocking records and no angler reports in the DEC database — it may hold native brookies, or it may be too shallow and warm to winter fish at all. If you're hunting for Curtis Pond specifically, call the Tupper Lake town office or stop at Raquette River Outfitters; access status here changes with harvest cycles and posted-land boundaries.
