Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
