Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Falls Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — 38 acres tucked into the working forest between the Blue Mountain Wild Forest and private timber parcels west of the main lake. Access details are sparse: no marked DEC trails lead directly to the shoreline, and the pond doesn't appear on the standard paddling circuits that draw crowds to Raquette Lake proper or the Forked Lake / Long Pond chain to the north. The name suggests a stream inlet or outlet with some gradient, but without maintained routes or documented fishery data, this one stays quiet by default. If you're poking around the back roads near Raquette Lake village with a topo map and patience, Falls Pond is the kind of place you find rather than plan for.
Feeder Pond is a one-acre water tucked somewhere in the Old Forge township — likely a remnant beaver meadow or a forest pocket too small to show up on most recreation maps. The name suggests it once fed a larger system or served as a millpond sluice, but without maintained access or fish stocking records, it's effectively off the casual paddler's radar. Waters this size in the Old Forge area tend to sit on private inholdings or back up against state land boundaries where old logging roads have grown over. If you know where it is, you probably own it or grew up nearby.
Fifth Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Keene township — small enough that it likely doesn't register on most trail maps, and remote enough that it exists in the gap between the named routes and the DEC lean-to circuit. No fish species data on record, which in the Adirondacks usually means either too shallow for winter survival or too far off the stocking routes to justify the hike. The name suggests it's part of a numbered chain — First through Fifth, or Third through Seventh — but without a clear trailhead reference, this one lives in the category of bushwhack destinations and local knowledge. If you're headed in, bring a topo and a compass.
Figure Eight Pond sits in the Saranac Lake region — a 15-acre water whose name suggests the shape but whose access and use patterns remain undocumented in the standard trail registers and DEC records. No fish stocking data on file, which typically means either private holdings on the shoreline or a pond that's seen enough natural acidification or winter oxygen depletion to discourage both stocking efforts and angling pressure. The Saranac Lake region holds dozens of these smaller named waters tucked between the more trafficked routes — ponds that appear on the topo maps but rarely in the trip reports. Worth checking local outfitters or the town clerk's office for access details if you're prospecting new water.
First Pond — 51 acres, Saranac Lake region — sits in that mid-size category where a pond is big enough to paddle but small enough that most boats never bother. The name tells the story: it's almost certainly the first in a chain or cluster, though the state records don't clarify what comes second. No fish species data on file, which usually means either it winters out hard or no one's bothered to net it in recent surveys. If you're sorting through Saranac-area ponds by map, this is one to confirm access and ownership before you commit to the drive.
First Pond is a small backcountry water body accessible via trail in the Adirondack interior. The pond holds native brook trout and offers quiet fishing away from road corridors.
Fish Creek Pond covers 270 acres and anchors the state's busiest paddle-camping campground south of Upper Saranac Lake. Motor access allowed; 51 waterfront tent sites fill early on summer weekends.
Fish Creek Pond is the centerpiece of the Fish Creek Pond Public Campground — 355 sites, hot showers, boat launch, the full state-campground experience — making it one of the busiest developed waters in the northwestern Adirondacks. At 213 acres it's large enough to paddle without feeling crowded even on summer weekends, and it connects via navigable channels to a chain of ponds (Rollins, Whey, Copperas, Floodwood) that can keep a canoe or kayak busy for days. The campground sits off NY-30 between Tupper Lake and Paul Smiths, a logical base for families who want running water and a picnic table but still want to be on the water by breakfast. No fish species data on file, but the pond has historically supported warmwater populations — bass, pike, panfish — and sees regular angler traffic from the launch.
Fish Pond sits in the Old Forge area — a 30-acre bowl that carries the kind of generic name that signals either early surveyor pragmatism or a long-term reputation for decent fishing, now unverified by recent stocking or creel records. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked wild brookies or a pond that winterkills in lean snow years. The Old Forge corridor is dense with ponds, lakes, and interconnected paddling routes; Fish Pond likely fits into that web, though access details and trail conditions vary widely across the township. Worth a scouting trip if you're already in the area with a canoe and a taste for the anonymous.
Fish Pond is a 175-acre backcountry water in the St. Regis Canoe Area, reached only by paddle-and-portage from Hoel Pond or Long Pond. One lean-to and primitive sites; native brook trout and no motors.
Fish Pond is a one-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake township — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that it's either a bushwhack or a forgotten spur off a logging road network that may or may not still be passable. No fish species data on record, which in the southern Adirondacks often means it winters out or never had a stocking history to begin with. If you're looking for this one, confirm access and ownership before you go — many small ponds in this zone sit on private timber company land or require navigating gated roads.
Fish Pond holds 119 acres in the Tupper Lake region — mid-sized water in an area where ponds routinely stretch into the 200–300-acre range and most get accessed by boat or long trail. Without species data on file, it's either lightly fished or quietly productive in that unpublicized Adirondack way where locals know and visitors pass by. The name tells you everything and nothing: functional, unadorned, the kind of label that stuck because someone caught dinner here in 1890 and no one bothered to romanticize it. Worth a deeper look if you're already in the Tupper system and mapping out lesser-known paddles.
Fish Ponds sits in the Speculator region — a 24-acre body of water that carries the functional name common to working ponds across the North Country. No fish species data on record, which often means it's either under-surveyed or managed intermittently, and no major peaks or trailheads nearby to anchor its identity in the backcountry network. The lack of curated nearby listings suggests it's either tucked into private land or far enough off the recreational grid that it doesn't generate the foot traffic of named destinations. If you're chasing it down, confirm access and ownership before you go — many "Fish Ponds" in Hamilton County are remnants of old logging or farm operations, not public recreation sites.
Fish Ponds sits in the Speculator region as one of those modest-acreage waters that never quite made it onto the standard fishing or paddling circuits — twenty-three acres, no stocking records on file, and no formal trail infrastructure to speak of. The name suggests old beaver work or a historical put-and-take operation, but without current species data it's a question mark for anglers and more of a local landmark than a destination. Access likely requires either a bushwhack or permission across private land — worth confirming with the town or DEC Ray Brook before committing to the drive. If you're already in Speculator with a canoe, it's a curious dot on the map; just don't count on brookies until you've done the legwork.
Fishbrook Pond is a 37-acre water tucked into the southern Adirondacks near Brant Lake — small enough to feel secluded, large enough to paddle without circling the shoreline in twenty minutes. The pond sits in a landscape of mixed hardwoods and private holdings, typical of the southeastern Park, where public access often requires local knowledge or permission and the trails aren't marked on state maps. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either native brookies in low numbers or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter draw-down. If you're headed this way, confirm access and ownership lines before you go.
Fishhole Pond is a 24-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to stay off most radar but large enough to hold fish, though current DEC records don't list what's swimming under the surface. The name suggests local fishing history, the kind of pond that shows up on hand-drawn maps and in conversations at the hardware store but not in guidebooks. No known formal access or maintained trails tie it to the public trail system, which typically means either private land surrounds it or it's reached by informal routes known to locals. Worth asking at a Saranac Lake fly shop or the DEC office in Ray Brook if you're serious about finding it.
Fishpole Pond is a five-acre water tucked into the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational checklists, which is often the point. The name suggests angling history, but there's no current fish species data on record, and no formal DEC stocking reports in recent years. These off-the-radar ponds tend to be either walk-in access with minimal signage or surrounded by private land with informal local use — worth confirming access before you bushwhack. If it's open water, expect shallow depth, warm summer temps, and the kind of quiet that comes from being too small to paddle and too obscure to promote.
Fishpole Pond — 19 acres tucked in the Tupper Lake region — sits among the quieter, less-cataloged waters where the northwestern Adirondacks flatten into working forest and private timber tracts. No fish species data on file, which usually means either no recent DEC surveys or catch-and-release fishing pressure too light to warrant stocking records. Access details aren't widely published, so assume gated seasonal roads or private easements unless you've got a local contact or a DeLorme page with notes in the margin. The name suggests an old camp or a skinny shape — or both.
Flagg Creek sits in the Tupper Lake region as a small fourteen-acre pond — the kind of water that appears on the map but rarely in conversation, likely accessed by bushwhack or private land rather than marked trail. No fish species on record, no documented camping, no trailhead pull-off with a brown DEC sign. These are the ponds that fill the gaps between the named destinations — worth knowing exist if you're studying a quad map or piecing together a cross-country route, but not a place you'd send someone looking for a day hike or a brookie dinner.
Flatfish Pond is a 112-acre mid-sized water in the Long Lake township — far enough off the main corridors that it doesn't pull weekend crowds, big enough to hold interest if you're willing to put in the effort to reach it. The name suggests the kind of shallow, marshy basin common to this part of the central Adirondacks, where ponds sit in old glacial bowls and wetlands blur the edges between open water and forest floor. No fish species on record, which likely means limited stocking history and minimal angling pressure — this is a paddle destination, not a fishing camp. Check with the Long Lake town office or local outfitters for current access; many ponds in this area are reached by unmarked woods roads or require a carry.
Flemings Pond sits in the Paradox Lake region — a 49-acre water without much public footprint and no official fish stocking records, which usually means posted shoreline or limited-to-no public access. The name appears on USGS maps but not in the DEC's maintained paddling or fishing inventories, a pattern common to ponds ringed by private camps or tucked behind old Adirondack estates. Worth a query at the Schroon Lake DEC office or the town clerk in Paradox if you're intent on reaching it — some of these "map ponds" have owner-tolerated access via legacy trails, but assume private until confirmed otherwise.
Floodwood Pond is a 200-acre pond off Floodwood Road, the put-in for the historic Seven Carries route into the St. Regis Canoe Area. Smallmouth bass and pike; accessible by car, making it a steady choice for family paddles and shoreline anglers.
Floodwood Pond spreads across 230 acres in the Saranac Lakes Wild Forest northeast of Tupper Lake — a quiet paddling destination in a region better known for the crowded carry routes between Upper Saranac and the St. Regis Canoe Area. The pond sits in low-relief terrain with wetland margins and mixed hardwood shoreline; no dramatic peaks frame the view, but that's part of the appeal for paddlers who want hours on flat water without fighting wind or sharing space with motorboats. Access details vary depending on which section of shoreline you're aiming for — check the DEC unit map before you load the boat. No fish species data on file, which usually means it's been a long time since anyone bothered to cast a line here.
Florence Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Old Forge corridor — small enough that it likely sees more moose traffic than paddler traffic, and the kind of place that shows up on a topo map but not in most guidebooks. No fish species data on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either unstocked and unproductive or simply unstudied. The pond sits in working forest country where access depends on current logging roads and private landowner tolerance — worth a phone call to the town clerk or a local outfitter before you bushwhack in. If you're after solitude and you've got good map skills, this is the kind of water that rewards the effort.
Flowed Lands is a 90-acre beaver flow between Upper Works and Lake Colden, its water level lowered after a 1979 dam removal. Lean-tos ring the shore; the MacIntyre Range rises to the west — reachable via Avalanche Pass or the Calamity Brook trail from Upper Works.
Fly Pond is a 15-acre pocket water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough to fall off most fishing reports but large enough to hold a canoe for an afternoon. No fish data on record, which typically means either nobody's reporting or nobody's catching, though ponds this size in the southern Adirondacks often hold residual populations of pickerel or stunted sunfish if they're connected to larger drainages. Access details are scarce — likely either private shoreline or a bushwhack proposition from a seasonal road. If you're poking around the Sacandaga backcountry with a topo map and time to spare, it's worth a look; otherwise, this one stays quiet for a reason.
Fly Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational radar, which is half the point of knowing it exists. No fish stocking records on file, no formal access infrastructure, and no nearby peak anchors to draw the hiking crowd. These micro-ponds in the Old Forge drainage tend to be snowmobile-season discoveries or local spots held by camp owners who know the woods between the bigger lakes. If you're poking around the back roads south or west of town with a canoe on the roof, Fly Pond is the kind of name worth a second look on the DeLorme.
Fly Ponds — a 24-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — sits in the kind of mid-elevation terrain where the forest opens up just enough to let light hit the water but not enough to pull crowds. No fish data on record, which typically means either low pH, shallow depth, or simple absence from DEC stocking routes; worth a cast if you're already back there, but not a destination for anglers. The name suggests historical beaver activity or the presence of seasonal hatches that once made it notable to someone with a fly rod. Access and trail details are sparse — if you know the water, you likely came in from one of the Raquette Lake area trailheads or by bushwhack.
Follensby Junior Pond — 193 acres tucked into the working forest south of Upper Saranac Lake — sits in that category of mid-sized Adirondack ponds with limited public information: privately held or encumbered land, minimal state access, no formal trail system in the DEC inventory. The name suggests a relationship to Follensby Clear Pond to the west, part of the old Follensby Pond Club territory that included some of the earliest preserved wilderness parcels in the Park. Without documented access or fish survey data, this one stays in the "map notation" file until access conditions change. Worth watching if you track state land acquisitions in the Saranac Lake Wild Forest.
Follensby Pond is one of the largest privately-owned waters in the Adirondack Park — 742 acres in the Tupper Lake watershed, long inaccessible to the public and largely absent from guidebooks as a result. The Nature Conservancy acquired the property in 2009 and now permits limited seasonal access, though logistics change year to year and require advance planning. The pond has minor literary history: Emerson, Agassiz, and a cohort of Cambridge intellectuals camped here in 1858, calling themselves the "Philosophers' Camp" — a footnote in Adirondack mythology that gets recycled in regional histories. Access details and current fish population are unknowns for most paddlers; check with TNC directly before assuming you can launch.
Footes Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational radar, and remote enough that access details stay local knowledge. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies or none at all; ponds this size in the southern Adirondacks tend to go one way or the other depending on winterkill and inlet flow. The Great Sacandaga corridor is better known for its reservoir shoreline and snowmobile routes than for backcountry ponds, so Footes lives in that quiet category of waters you find by asking at the general store. Worth a knock on the door if you're in the area with a canoe.
Fox Pond is a ten-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — the kind of small backcountry pond that doesn't show up on most recreation checklists but still holds a place on the USGS quad. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system advertised, and no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is the category of Adirondack water that exists more as a landmark for hunters, snowmobilers, and local landowners than as a paddling or fishing destination. Access and ownership status matter here: if you're planning a visit, confirm public entry points and respect posted boundaries before heading in.
Fox Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps and remote enough that it sits well off the standard lake-to-lake paddling routes that define this region. No public access points documented, no fish stocking records on file, no formal trails leading in. It's the kind of water that exists primarily as a dot on the USGS quad and a footnote in the state's gazetteer — known to the adjacent landowners, invisible to most everyone else.
Frances Pond is a 14-acre pocket water in the Keene township — small, off-trail, and absent from most recreational databases. No fish surveys on record, no marked access, no adjacent trailheads pulling traffic from NY-73 or the Giant Wilderness corridor. It sits in that middle category of Adirondack waters: named, mapped, but functionally wild — the kind of place you bushwhack to with a topo and low expectations, or stumble onto while hunting the back ridges. If you're looking for solitude over infrastructure, Frances Pond delivers by default.
Frank Pond is a 26-acre water in the Indian Lake town limits — one of the smaller named ponds in the central Adirondacks that hasn't made it onto the stocked-water lists or the lean-to circuit. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either too shallow to winter-over trout or it's simply off the DEC stocking rotation. The name suggests an old landowner or logger-camp association, common in this part of Hamilton County where most ponds carried a surname before they carried a reputation. Worth a look if you're already in the Indian Lake area and mapping out bushwhacks or solo paddles — just don't expect trail signs or a put-in with a name.
Frank Pond is a 27-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — part of the dense constellation of small ponds and wetlands that defines the western High Peaks transition zone. No formal fish survey data on record, which often means native brook trout or none at all; access is likely via unmaintained woods roads or bushwhack from the Raquette Lake area trail network. The pond sits in working forest land where property lines and public access shift over time — worth confirming access status with the DEC or local outfitters before committing to a trip. Small, quiet, and off the grid in the way that defines half the named waters in this part of the Park.
Franks Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — small enough that it likely holds more appeal for a canoe paddle or a quiet morning than for any particular fishing or through-hiking objective. No species data on record, which usually means either unstocked and marginal habitat or simply off the radar for DEC survey work. These small ponds in the southern Adirondacks often sit on private land or lack formal access, so confirm ownership and entry before planning a trip. Worth a look if you're already in the area and chasing solitude over infrastructure.
French Pond is a 20-acre water in the Old Forge township — small enough to stay off most touring lists, large enough to hold a canoe route worth paddling. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or nothing at all, and no official trail or access point listed in the DEC inventory. The pond sits in working forest country where private land and state easements checkerboard the map, so access is the question you answer with a property-line map and a phone call to the local DEC office. If you can get there, it's the kind of place that rewards the effort with silence.
Fuller Pond is a 21-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough to feel remote, large enough to justify the effort if you're looking for quiet. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies or nothing at all; worth a cast if you're already there, not worth the drive if you're chasing trout. The pond sits in that mid-Park zone where most visitors are passing through on their way to bigger water or higher trails — which is exactly why ponds like this stay empty. Access details are sparse; if you're hunting it down, check the DEC's most recent Schroon Lake unit map for unmarked approaches.
