Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Gal Pond is a 13-acre backcountry water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that most visitors to the region never hear the name. Access typically requires either a bushwhack or a boat-in from one of the larger Raquette Lake chain waters, depending on which drainage you approach from — this is not a roadside stop. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or nothing at all. The kind of pond that rewards paddlers willing to carry a canoe past the obvious destinations.
Gardner Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake township — small enough that it rarely appears on general recreation maps and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system, no lean-to — the kind of water that exists in the NYSDEC rolls but not in the regional hiking conversation. If you're looking for it, you're likely working from a topo map or chasing down a local lead; if you find it, you'll have it to yourself. Bring a canoe light enough to carry in, and don't expect cell service on the way out.
Gay Pond is a five-acre pocket of stillwater tucked into the southern Adirondacks near the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it won't appear on most road maps, and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trails advertised by DEC, no campsite infrastructure — this is the category of water that gets visited by hunters in November, locals who know the woods, and the occasional bushwhacker working through the USGS quad. If you're looking for a reason to visit, you'll need to supply your own: brook trout exploratory, a winter snowshoe objective, or simply the satisfaction of standing at a place most people will never see. Verify access and landowner permission before heading in.
Giant's Washbowl is a five-acre cirque pond perched high on the southern flank of Giant Mountain — a tarn in the literal sense, scooped out by glacial action and fed by runoff from the summit ridge above. The hike in is steep and sustained, gaining roughly 1,500 vertical feet from the trailhead, and the pond itself sits in a dramatic alpine bowl with cliffs rising on three sides. No fish on record, and the water stays cold well into July. This is a destination hike, not a pass-through — most parties turn around at the Washbowl or continue the push to Giant's summit if they're already committed to the elevation.
Gillespie Pond is a six-acre water in the Lake George region — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational radar, and lacking the kind of public access or established fishery that would draw repeat traffic. No fish species data on file with DEC, which typically signals either minimal angling pressure or a pond that doesn't hold a consistent population worth documenting. These small southern Adirondack waters often sit on private land or in roadless pockets between more prominent destinations — useful as landmarks for locals, invisible to the rest of us.
Ginger Pond is a 12-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough to slip past casual notice, large enough to hold a canoe for an hour or two of quiet paddling. No fish survey data on record, which often means either minimal stocking history or simply that DEC hasn't prioritized sampling a pond this size in recent cycles. The Old Forge region is dense with interconnected ponds and carry trails; Ginger likely fits into that web, though access details tend to come from local knowledge rather than trailhead signs. Worth asking at an Old Forge outfitter if you're mapping a multi-pond paddle day.
Glasby Pond is a 12-acre water tucked into the Tupper Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough that it holds a boat if you can get one in. No DEC fish stocking records and no established trail infrastructure means this is either private-access or bushwhack country, the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map but not in a trail guide. The Tupper Lake region is laced with these smaller ponds — working-forest land, hunting camp water, local knowledge required. If you're looking at Glasby, confirm access and ownership before you go.
Glasgow Pond is a five-acre puddle in the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — small enough that it reads more like a wetland feature than a destination water, and remote enough that it doesn't pull traffic from the reservoir shoreline a few ridges away. No fish stocking records, no formal access that shows up on trail registries, and no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is the kind of water that only shows up because we mapped every named pond in the Park, not because anyone's planning a weekend around it. If you're bushwhacking the backcountry between Sacandaga villages or hunting the margins of state land, you might cross it; otherwise, it stays off the list.
Glenn Pond is a small backcountry pond in the High Peaks Wilderness, reached via bushwhack from the Elk Lake-Marcy Trail. No maintained path — navigate by map and compass; the pond holds brook trout and sees light fishing pressure.
The Glens Falls Feeder Canal is a working relic — a seven-mile remnant of the 1832 waterway that once fed the Champlain Canal, now maintained as a quiet linear park threading through the city of Glens Falls and into the northern Lake George corridor. The canal runs narrow and controlled, more riverwalk than wild water, with a crushed stone towpath on the east bank that doubles as a walking/cycling corridor. No fish data on record; this is not fishing water in any serious sense — it's urban infrastructure turned green space, a flat-water paddle or a shaded run between neighborhoods. Park access at Haviland Cove (north end) and multiple road crossings in town; the canal feeds into the Hudson River at the south terminus.
The Glens Falls Feeder Canal is a 2-acre remnant of the 1832 waterway that once carried logs and supplies from the Hudson River to the Champlain Canal — now a narrow, quiet strip of water threading through the southeastern edge of the Adirondack Park boundary. It's not wilderness water: you're in village context here, with road access and walking paths along the towpath, more urban greenway than backcountry destination. No fish data on record, no peaks in sight, no designated camping — this is the kind of water that matters more to local historians and morning joggers than to paddlers or anglers. If you're passing through Glens Falls en route to Lake George, the canal offers a five-minute glimpse of the working-water history that built the southern Adirondacks before tourism did.
Glidden Marsh sits in the Paradox Lake region — 18 acres of shallow wetland that functions more as wildlife habitat than paddling destination. The marsh is the kind of place that registers on topographic maps but rarely appears in trip reports: no designated access, no formal trails, and no fish stocking records to pull anglers off the nearby lakes. Beaver activity shapes the water levels season to season, and the edges are browsed hard by deer. If you're scanning a map for solitude in the Paradox corridor, this is the terrain that delivers it — but you'll be bushwhacking in, and the reward is observation, not recreation.
Goose Pond is a small backcountry water in the central Adirondacks, accessed by bushwhack or informal paths. Brook trout hold in its cold water; expect solitude and no marked trail.
Goose Pond is a backcountry pond in the High Peaks Wilderness, accessed via the Elk Lake-Marcy Trail. The approach requires several miles of hiking; the pond sees light use and offers quiet water in a forested basin.
Goose Pond sits in the Paradox Lake region — a 64-acre pond in a quietly forested pocket east of Schroon Lake, where the tourist traffic thins and the ponds tend toward private shoreline and camp leases. No fish species on record, which usually signals either marginal habitat or simply that DEC hasn't surveyed it in decades. The pond carries the kind of name — Goose, Mud, Long — that marks working-camp waters rather than destination fishing, and access here is almost certainly limited to landowner permission or a paddle-in from a connecting water. Worth a look on the DeLorme if you're poking around the Paradox drainage, but don't expect a trailhead.
Goose Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational radar, but the kind of place that shows up in local knowledge and older USGS quads. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either naturally reproducing brookies in modest numbers or a pond that winters out and runs fishless. Access details are scarce in the standard trail databases; if you're hunting for it, start with the town assessor's parcel maps and be prepared for a bushwhack or an unmarked woods road. Old Forge has dozens of ponds in this size class — some are gems, some are beaver swamps with marginal access.
Gooseneck Pond is a 75-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — part of the quieter, less-trafficked southeastern quadrant of the Park where ponds tend to be private or difficult to reach. The name suggests a bend or narrow passage in the shoreline, typical of glacial drainage ponds in this terrain, though public access and current use aren't well documented. Without clear trail or launch information, this is one to research locally before planning a trip — the town of Schroon or nearby outfitters may have better intel on whether it's reachable and what you'll find when you get there.
Goosepuddle Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake drainage — the kind of small pond that appears on USGS maps but rarely shows up in fishing reports or trail guides. No formal trail access on record, no designated campsites, no fish stocking data in the DEC database — which means it's either spring-fed and fishless, or it's holding native brookies that see almost no pressure. The name alone (Goosepuddle) suggests either old logging-camp humor or a seasonal wetland character that keeps most paddlers pointed toward Paradox Lake proper. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe and a taste for bushwhacking, but set expectations accordingly.
Gordon Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational fishing reports, which may explain the absence of stocking or survey data in the DEC records. Waters this size in the Tupper Lake wild forest tend to be either old beaver work or glacial holdouts tucked into low ridges, accessible by unmarked routes or private roads rather than marked state trails. Without confirmed access or fish species, Gordon Pond sits in that category of named waters that exist more as landmarks on the map than as destinations — though that's exactly the profile that sometimes yields brook trout if you can get to it. Worth a scouting mission if you're local and curious; otherwise, it's a placeholder until someone files a trip report.
Gourdshell Ponds — a 16-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — is one of those mid-sized ponds that exists in the zone between local knowledge and the well-documented trail network. No fish species data on file, no marked camping, no trailhead sign on the highway — which puts it squarely in the category of ponds you find by talking to someone at a tackle shop or studying the DEC unit management plan maps. The name suggests either an old surveyor's notation or a physical feature worth seeing in person. If you're working through the lesser-known waters around Saranac Lake, this is the kind of blank spot on the stocking list that either means truly fishless or just unstocked and overlooked.
Graham Pond is a small, low-profile water in the Old Forge township — twelve acres tucked into the working forest west of the Fulton Chain, the kind of pond that doesn't appear on most recreation maps and sees more use from local anglers than through-hikers. No formal public access or maintained trail in the DEC inventory, which typically means private landowner permission required or a bushwhack approach through active timberland. No fish stocking records on file with the state, though ponds this size in the Old Forge drainage often hold wild brookies if the inlet flow is cold enough year-round. Best confirmed with local outfitters or the Old Forge Visitor Center before planning a trip.
Grass Pond is a 10-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. The name suggests marshy shoreline and aquatic vegetation, the kind of pond that holds brook trout or sunfish but doesn't draw fishing pressure. Without established trails or lean-tos on record, this is a water for bushwhackers or locals who know the approach — not a destination pond, but the kind of place you stumble onto and have to yourself. No fish species data on file, which usually means either catch-and-release brookies or none at all.
Grass Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — the kind of small, named feature that shows up on USGS quads but rarely in guidebooks. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means it's either too shallow to hold trout through winter or it's been off the DEC radar long enough that any brookies are purely wild holdovers. Waters this size in the Saranac Lake area tend to be tucked into mixed hardwood lowlands or spruce flats, accessed by old logging roads or unmarked footpaths if they're accessible at all. If you're looking for it, start with the DEC Unit Management Plan for the region — it'll clarify whether there's legal public access or if this one's landlocked by private parcels.
Grass Pond is a five-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it likely sits off the main hiking and paddling routes, and without fish stocking records to draw anglers in numbers. Ponds this size in the Saranac Lake corridor are typically walk-in access, often via unmarked or lightly maintained paths, and they're the kind of destination that rewards locals and repeat visitors more than first-time tourists. If you're looking for solitude and can navigate by topo map, ponds like this one offer exactly that — no lean-tos, no marked campsites, just woods and water. Confirm access and ownership before heading in; not all small ponds in this region are on state land.
Grass Pond — 35 acres northwest of Saranac Lake village — is one of dozens of small named waters in the Saranac chain watershed that exist in the gap between backcountry destination and local fishing spot. No formal trail data or species records in the state system, which usually means either private shoreline access or a bushwhack approach through working forest. The name suggests shallow water and marshy margins — classic northern pike or panfish habitat if there's public put-in, but you'd want to confirm access and regs with the local DEC office before dragging a canoe in. Worth a phone call if you're already camped at Fish Creek or Rollins and looking for something off the standard rotation.
Grass Pond is a 21-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to paddle without running out of shoreline in ten minutes. No fish data on record, which usually means light pressure and a pond that skews more toward quiet-water paddling or wildlife watching than angling destinations. The name suggests the obvious: expect emergent vegetation along the margins, likely pickleweed or wild rice stands by midsummer, and the kind of bug hatch that brings wood ducks and herons in early morning. Access details are sparse, so contact the local DEC office or check the latest edition of the *Adirondack Paddler's Map* before committing to a trip.
Grass Pond is a one-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and the kind of place that shows up on a topo map but not in conversation. No fish stocking records and no formal trail system means this is either a local secret or a bushwhack destination for someone chasing every named water in the Park. Waters this size in the Tupper Lake lowlands are often ringed by sphagnum, alder, and black spruce — more wetland than swimming hole. If you know how to find it, you already know what it is.
Grass Pond is a small backcountry water in the Adirondack Park, accessible by bushwhack or unmarked trail depending on location. Brook trout present; expect shallow margins and variable clarity — scout approach routes before committing gear.
Grass Pond is a 26-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to hold a canoe for an hour or two. No fish species on record, which likely means it's been overlooked rather than surveyed, and no formal trail or launch documented in DEC records. These off-the-grid ponds tend to serve as local spots — known by camp owners and year-round residents, reached by logging roads or bushwhack, valued more for the quiet than the fishing. If you're asking about access, start with the town clerk or a local outfitter.
Grass Pond is a small backcountry water accessible by bushwhack or unmarked path — exact location varies by which Grass Pond you mean, as several exist across the park. Most see minimal traffic and hold native brook trout in shallow, weedy basins.
Grass Pond is a two-acre pocket of water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and the kind of place that only shows up on detailed USGS quads. No fish stocking records, no formal access trail in the DEC inventory, which puts it in that category of Adirondack waters that exist more as waypoints for through-hikers or hunting-season destinations than as recreational targets. If you're looking for solitude and already know how to get there, Grass Pond delivers; if you're planning a first trip to the region, this isn't the water to start with.
Grass Pond is a 40-acre water in the Old Forge network — part of the sprawling Fulton Chain / Moose River region where ponds multiply and naming conventions sometimes feel like an afterthought. The pond sits in working wilderness: thick shoreline, beaver activity, and the kind of quiet you earn by putting in effort or knowing the right put-in. No fish survey data on file, which usually means limited angling pressure and a pond that's more about the paddle than the catch. Access details matter here — this is Old Forge backcountry, not a roadside pull-off.
Grass Pond is a 20-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on tourist itineraries, which is precisely the appeal. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trails leading to named peaks, no lean-tos or designated campsites in the immediate watershed. It's the kind of water that rewards local knowledge: a put-in for a canoe, a bushwhack destination, or a quiet afternoon paddle for anyone who knows where to park. Check with the Saranac Lake Islands Campground office or local outfitters for current access routes and ownership boundaries before heading in.
Grassy Pond is a 9-acre pocket water in the Blue Mountain Lake township — small enough that it lives in the gap between the headline destinations and the true backcountry wildcards. No fish data on file, which usually means either never stocked or surveyed so long ago the records didn't survive digitization; ponds this size in this region sometimes hold stunted brook trout populations or go fishless depending on winter oxygen and beaver activity. The name suggests a shallow basin with emergent vegetation along the margins — classic stillwater for dragonflies, wood ducks, and the occasional moose browse at dawn. If you're looking for it, start with the local DEC office or the Blue Mountain Lake Association; access intel for the unnamed and under-documented waters still travels by word of mouth.
Grassy Pond is a shallow, marsh-edged water body accessible by bushwhack or old logging traces — no maintained trail leads in. The pond holds minimal depth and sees little visitation; it draws anglers willing to navigate wetland perimeter for brook trout.
Grassy Pond is an 18-acre water in the Indian Lake region — small enough to stay off most through-hiking itineraries, quiet enough to hold that position. The name suggests marsh grass at the shoreline, shallow bays, and the kind of pond that warms early and holds pickerel if it holds fish at all. No species data on file with DEC, which usually means either private, lightly fished, or both. Worth checking local access and ownership before driving in with a canoe.
Grassy Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — 43 acres tucked into the working forestland south and west of the main lake basin, part of the patchwork of private timberland, hunting camps, and state easement parcels that defines this stretch of the central Adirondacks. Access here typically depends on landownership and seasonal roads; this isn't front-country paddling like the Blue Mountain Lake chain, and it's not the backcountry stillwater of the Five Ponds either — it's middle-distance water in a region where the line between public and private shifts with every parcel sale. No fish data on file, which usually means it's been off the DEC stocking rotation for decades, if it was ever on it.
Grassy Ponds — one acre, tucked somewhere in the Indian Lake township — is the kind of name that shows up on old USGS quads and makes you wonder if anyone's actually fished it in the last decade. No fish stocking records, no trail register, no lean-to within shouting distance. It's either a seasonal wetland that barely holds water past June, or it's genuinely remote enough that it doesn't generate data. If you know where it is and how to reach it, you're working from local knowledge or serious map study.
Grassy Ponds is a 3-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose traffic than paddler traffic, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. No fish species data on file, which suggests either genuine absence or a pond that gets checked once a decade by DEC survey crews. The name telegraphs the shoreline: expect emergent grasses, shallow margins, and the kind of wetland structure that makes for difficult put-ins and excellent wildlife watching if you're willing to bushwhack or probe for an access point. This is habitat water, not destination water.
Graves Pond is a 26-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to hold mystery, large enough to paddle without feeling boxed in. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means legacy brook trout if anything, though access and current conditions are harder to confirm without recent reports. The name suggests old settlement or logging-era ties, common in this stretch of the park where 19th-century operations left behind cellar holes, grown-over roads, and the occasional pond named for a foreman or landowner. Worth a reconnaissance trip if you're already in the area with a canoe and a taste for quieter, less-documented water.
Green Pond is a 29-acre backcountry water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to feel remote, large enough to hold a solo paddler's attention for an afternoon. No formal fish records on file, but that's the story with a lot of interior ponds that don't see regular stocking or survey attention; local anglers know what's there, or they bring their own assumptions and a spinning rod. Access details are sparse in the official record, which usually means either a bushwhack or a local-knowledge approach from an unmarked trailhead. Worth checking DEC's online database or stopping at a Tupper Lake outfitter for current intel on how to get in.
Green Pond is an 11-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel removed once you're on it. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either stocked intermittently or fished lightly enough that DEC surveys haven't prioritized it. The Old Forge corridor has dozens of ponds in this size range, many accessible by short carries from forest roads or connected by the region's interlocking paddle routes. Check with Old Forge outfitters for current access — some of these smaller ponds shift between private easement and open carry depending on landowner agreements.
Green Pond is a 22-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to feel secluded, large enough to paddle without circling endlessly. No fish stocking records on file, which either means it's been overlooked by DEC surveys or it's a seasonal pond that doesn't hold trout through summer drawdown. The name suggests it once sat on a parcel owned by a Green family, or it's a straightforward descriptor of the algae bloom that colors shallow Adirondack ponds by late July. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious, but confirm access and water levels before committing to the drive.
Green Pond is a 62-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — quiet, middle-elevation territory where the pace slows down and the crowds thin out. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies that nobody's bothering to count or a pond that winterkills and runs fishless most years. The name shows up on the DEC gazetteer but not much else, the kind of place that rewards local knowledge more than guidebook planning. Worth a knock on the door at a Tupper Lake bait shop if you're curious — they'll know whether it's worth the drive.
Greenfield Pond is a 29-acre water on the Tupper Lake outskirts — small enough to disappear on most maps, large enough to hold a shoreline worth exploring. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked private water or a pond that's been off the angling radar long enough that DEC surveys moved on. The name suggests old farmland edges or a long-gone settlement clearing, common in this stretch of the northern Adirondacks where working forests and hamlet roads still define the landscape more than wilderness corridors. Access details are scarce — if you're heading out, confirm ownership and entry points locally before you load the canoe.
Greenland Pond is an 8-acre pocket of water in the Brant Lake region — small enough to miss on a map, large enough to hold the quiet that defines off-trail Adirondack water. No DEC fish records on file, which often signals either seasonal brookies that come and go with stream flow or a pond too shallow to hold trout through summer heat. The Brant Lake area sits in the southeastern corner of the park, more private land than state forest, so access here is likely private or unmarked — worth a knock on a door if you're staying nearby. These small ponds rarely make the guidebooks, but they're where the locals swim.
Greenleaf Pond is a small backcountry pond in the southern Adirondacks, reached by bushwhack or unmarked path. No formal trail, no development — a destination for anglers and paddlers comfortable navigating off-trail.
Grizzle Ocean — a 22-acre pond in the Paradox Lake region — carries the kind of peculiar name that likely traces back to some forgotten logging-era surveyor or trapper. The pond sits in the mid-elevation forest south of the Schroon Lake corridor, away from the High Peaks tourist traffic and the lean-to loop trails. No fish stocking records on file, no DEC campsite designations, no trailhead pull-offs with kiosks — this is the category of Adirondack water that shows up on the topo map but not in the guidebooks. Access likely requires either private-land permission or a bushwhack from the nearest seasonal road.
Gull Lakes — a pair of connected ponds tucked into the forest northwest of Raquette Lake proper — sit off the main boating and paddling circuits, more remote by feel than by actual distance. Access is by bushwhack or unmarked woods roads; this isn't a trailhead-and-sign destination, and the ponds see more use from hunters in fall than paddlers in summer. The water is tannic, shallow in places, ringed by mixed hardwoods and lowland conifers — classic Adirondack backcountry but without the draw of a named peak or a stocked fishery. If you're already camping on Raquette Lake and want a quiet explore with a topo map, Gull Lakes deliver solitude by default.
Gull Lakes — plural, though the name reads singular on most maps — sits in the Raquette Lake Wild Forest, a pair of connected ponds tucked into working forest land southwest of the main Raquette basin. Access is unmaintained or private-land-adjacent; this is not a trailhead-and-signpost destination, and most paddlers who know it reach it by old logging roads or by poking around the upper tributaries during high water. No fish data on file with DEC, no designated campsites, no foot traffic to speak of — which makes it exactly the kind of water that gets claimed by hunters in October and left alone the rest of the year.
Gull Pond is a 294-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — sizable enough to hold serious brook trout habitat, though no fish data is currently on record. The pond sits in working forest country, away from the High Peaks corridor and the heavy summer traffic that comes with it — quiet, low-pressure water that sees more local use than destination traffic. Access details are sparse in the public record, which often means gated private roads or long stretches of unmaintained trail; if you're serious about fishing it, start with the DEC's Region 6 office in Ray Brook for current access status and any updated stocking records.
Gull Pond is a remote body of water in the High Peaks Wilderness, reached by bushwhack or extended backcountry routes. No maintained trail access — navigation skills required.
