Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Hadley Pond is a 34-acre water in Keene — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to hold quiet in the afternoon when the wind picks up off the valley floor. No fish data on record, which in the Adirondacks usually means either unstocked or unmaintained, the kind of pond that stays off the angler circuit and on the local-knowledge map. The water sits in working forest and private land, so access isn't guaranteed — worth checking with the town or local outfitters before planning a visit. If you're poking around Keene's back roads and find a pull-off, you've likely found it.
Half Moon Pond is a 34-acre remote pond in the Five Ponds Wilderness, reached by a 4.5-mile bushwhack or paddle routes from nearby waters. Brook trout population; no maintained trails, no development — true backcountry.
Halfmoon Pond is a nine-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more canoe traffic than motorboats, though access details remain thin on public record. No fish species data on file, which usually means either unstocked and untested or simply too minor for DEC survey priority. The name suggests a crescent shoreline, and ponds this size in Tupper country tend to sit along old logging roads or within short paddling distance of larger connected waters. Worth a look if you're mapping the area's smaller stillwaters, but bring a GPS track and low expectations for infrastructure.
Hall Pond is an 11-acre water tucked somewhere in the Old Forge township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered across the central Adirondack plateau that don't make the paddling guides or the DEC stocking reports. No public fisheries data on file, which usually means it's either unstocked, unmanaged, or both — though small forest ponds in this zone sometimes hold wild brookies if the inlet and outlet conditions are right. Access details are unclear; many ponds this size in the Old Forge area sit on private land or require local knowledge to reach. If you're hunting it down, check the town tax maps and knock on doors — or treat it as a winter bushwhack when the leaves are down and property lines are easier to read.
Halls Pond is an 8-acre pocket water in the Lake George region — small enough that most paddlers wouldn't make a dedicated trip, but the kind of spot that pulls locals off the road when they're already nearby. No fish species data on record, which likely means it's been passed over by DEC surveys or doesn't hold much of a population worth tracking. Access details are sparse in the public record, so this is one to scout in person or ask around town before loading the kayak. The acreage suggests a quick loop paddle at most — more of a quiet-water interlude than a destination.
Hamilton Pond is a 16-acre water tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough that it never draws a crowd, large enough that it reads as a pond and not a puddle on the USGS quad. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system, no lean-to — this is the kind of place that gets visited by someone who knows someone who grew up nearby, or by a paddler working through every named water in a ten-mile radius of Long Lake village. If you're looking for solitude and you don't need infrastructure, Hamilton Pond delivers exactly that.
Hammond Pond is a 54-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — a quieter corner of the eastern Adirondacks where the names on the map tend to outnumber the people on the trail. No fish data on file, which usually means either private shoreline or DEC surveys that came up empty, and the pond doesn't appear on the standard recreation circuit. Worth checking the DEC atlas for access status and ownership lines before planning a visit — many of the smaller ponds in this drainage sit behind posted land or require permission. If it's accessible, expect solitude and the kind of shoreline that hasn't changed much since the last logging era.
Handsome Pond sits off NY-30 south of Long Lake village — 151 acres of open water in the mid-Adirondacks without the overhead drama of nearby peaks or the traffic of the Route 28N corridor. The name suggests old surveyor humor or a local family tie, but the pond itself is straightforward: road access, no designated campsites on record, and no fish stocking data in the DEC system. It reads as a put-in-and-paddle destination — the kind of place that gets you on the water in five minutes but doesn't anchor a weekend trip. Check the DEC's most recent stocking reports if you're bringing a rod.
Hannawa Pond sits just outside Tupper Lake village — 187 acres of shallow, weedy water that fishes more like a warm-water bay than a classic Adirondack pond. The shoreline is largely residential, with private camps dating back decades, and public access comes via a small launch suitable for canoes and cartop boats. This is local paddling territory, not destination water — the kind of place where you put in at dawn for bass or pickerel, then pull out by mid-morning when the motorboats wake up. No trails, no lean-tos, no dramatic backstory — just a working pond on the edge of town that does what it's supposed to do.
Hardigan Pond is a 31-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — part of the sprawling network of ponds and wetlands west of the main lake itself. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either native brook trout in low numbers or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter drawdown. Access details are sparse in the standard trail databases, suggesting either private inholdings along the shore or a bushwhack approach through state land — worth confirming ownership and access with the local DEC ranger before planning a trip. If you're poking around this drainage, bring a map: the Raquette Lake quad is dense with unmarked ponds and old logging roads that don't always appear on phone screens.
Harrington Pond is a small, remote body of water in the western Adirondacks, reached by bushwhack or unmaintained paths. No formal trails lead in—navigate by map and compass if you're after solitude and self-reliance.
Harry Ponds — a 13-acre body of water tucked into the woods near Old Forge — sits off the main circulation of the Fulton Chain corridor, which means quieter water than Fourth Lake but less infrastructure and detail in the stocking or access record. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually signals either unstocked private water or a pond that gets overlooked in the survey rotation. The Old Forge township has dozens of small ponds like this one: close enough to snowmobile trail networks and logging roads to be reachable, remote enough that you'll want a local contact or a good topo before you commit to the bushwhack.
Hatch Pond is a 7-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddlers' radars, tucked into the low hills east of Schroon Lake where the terrain flattens out toward Lake Champlain. No fish species data on record, which usually means light pressure and marginal habitat; it's the kind of pond that shows up on the map but not in the fishing reports. Access details are sparse — likely private or walk-in only, typical for ponds this size in the Paradox corridor. Worth a look if you're already nearby and hunting for solitude, but confirm land status before you go.
Hatching Pond is a small backcountry water in the High Peaks Wilderness, reached via the trail to Avalanche Lake. The pond sits below Mount Colden — fishless, shallow, and rarely a destination, but passed by hikers en route to the higher terrain.
Haupt Pond is a one-acre pocket water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational maps and likely named for a local family or landowner rather than any public landmark. No fish stocking records and no formal access trail, which typically means private shoreline or wetland margins that don't invite exploration. These tiny named ponds scattered around the southern Adirondacks often exist as cartographic artifacts — labeled on the quad map, visible from a back road or a neighboring property line, but functionally off the public recreation grid. Worth noting only if you're chasing completist naming projects or researching old property plats.
Hawk Pond is a 39-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to stay off the busiest lake circuit but large enough to hold fish and paddle interest. No public species data on record, which usually means either minimal stocking history or catch reports that haven't made it into DEC surveys; local intel at an Old Forge fly shop will fill the gap faster than the database. The pond sits in working Adirondack country where state land, private holdings, and easement access can shift block to block — confirm public access and launch rights before you load the canoe.
Hawkins Pond is a one-acre pocket of water in the Keene valley — small enough that it likely exists as a seasonal high-water feature or a shallow basin tucked into private land or forested acreage without maintained public access. No fish species data on record, which tracks for waters this size: too small to support a stocked population, too shallow or transient to hold wild brookies year-round. If you're looking for fishable water in Keene proper, the East Branch of the Ausable runs through town with posted access points, and Johns Brook flows north from the High Peaks with trail access from the Garden trailhead.
Haymarsh Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and isolated enough that casual paddlers won't stumble onto it from the main lake corridors. The name suggests beaver activity or wetland margins, and ponds this size in the Raquette drainage typically hold brook trout if they hold fish at all, though no species data is on file. Access details are scarce, which usually means either private land or a bushwhack approach through mixed hardwood and spruce lowlands. Worth investigating if you're already in the area with a topo map and patience for light exploration.
Haymarsh Ponds — a 15-acre cluster in the Raquette Lake township — sits far enough off the main travel corridors that it draws almost no casual traffic and holds almost no fisheries data in the DEC records. The name suggests wetland margins and shallow bays, the kind of water that warms early in spring and holds pickerweed by midsummer. Without established trail access or nearby trailhead infrastructure, this is a water for paddlers willing to route in from larger systems or bushwhack from private-road edges — local knowledge required. No fish species on file, which usually means either unstocked and unsurveyed, or too shallow and weedy to winter over anything but sunfish.
Haymeadow Pond is an 11-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — remote enough that DEC records list no fish survey data, which usually means limited access and limited pressure. The name suggests old pasture or meadow reclaimed by forest, a pattern common in this corner of the eastern Adirondacks where 19th-century farmsteads gave way back to woods. Without maintained trail access or nearby trailhead infrastructure, this is a pond for the topo-and-compass crowd or for anyone willing to bushwhack from the nearest seasonal road. Expect shallow water, probable beaver work, and solitude.
Haymeadow Pond is a 15-acre water tucked into the working forest southwest of Tupper Lake — one of dozens of small ponds in this zone that remain largely off the radar of the High Peaks crowd. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means limited angling pressure and limited stocking history; access details are sparse, suggesting private land or unmaintained routes rather than a marked trailhead. The name hints at old pasture or logging camp clearing — common in this corner of the park where timber operations and subsistence farming ran through the early 20th century. If you're chasing it, confirm access and ownership before you walk in.
Heart Pond is an 8-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely sees minimal traffic and limited angling pressure, but not so remote that it appears on most paddler or hiker itineraries. No fish species on record, which often means stocked brookies decades ago or simply unstocked and unsampled — either way, not a destination for anglers chasing current DEC inventory. The pond sits in quiet country east of the High Peaks, where the terrain flattens and the forest opens up into mixed hardwoods and old pasture edges. If you're looking for solitude over spectacle, waters like this deliver — just bring a topo and expect to bushwhack or follow old logging roads that may or may not still be passable.
Heath Pond is a 23-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to slip past casual attention, large enough to hold quiet if you find access. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either native brook trout that never made the DEC reports or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter drawdown. The name suggests bog margins and shallow water — classic Adirondack lowland habitat, more likely to reward a canoe than a hiking boot. If you're working this area, cross-reference with local paddling routes or ask at the Tupper Lake outfitters for current access and conditions.
Heavens Pond — 42 acres in the Tupper Lake region — sits in working forest country where detail tends to be sparse and access can shift with timber operations or private easement changes. No fish species on record, which usually means either unstocked or catch data never made it into the DEC system; ponds this size often hold brookies if there's adequate depth and oxygenation. Without curated trail or lean-to data, this is likely a bushwhack or seasonal-road access situation — worth a call to the local DEC office or a check of current sportsman access maps before you plan a trip in.
Hedgehog Pond is a 19-acre water tucked into the working forest northwest of Tupper Lake — small enough to slip past most maps, large enough to hold a canoe for an afternoon. Access details are scarce in the public record, which usually means private inholdings or gated logging roads; worth a call to the local DEC office or a stop at a Tupper Lake outfitter before planning a trip. The pond sits in that zone where state land fragments into private timber tracts and hunting camps — not remote wilderness, but quiet country where you're more likely to see a beaver lodge than another paddler. No fish data on file, but ponds this size in this landscape typically hold brookies or perch if they hold anything at all.
Hedgehog Pond is a backcountry pond in the western High Peaks requiring a bushwhack or unmarked approach — no maintained trail reaches it. A quiet destination for hikers seeking solitude; verify access and conditions before attempting.
Hedgehog Pond is a five-acre pocket tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull a heavy recreation load, and remote enough that most paddlers stick to the bigger named waters in the corridor. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means natural brook trout if anything, or just a quiet swim spot for anyone willing to bushwhack in. The pond sits in that stretch of working forest and private inholdings between Long Lake village and the Nehasane preserve — more hunting camp territory than trailhead country. If you're looking for it, start by checking township tax maps and asking at the Long Lake town office.
Helldiver Pond is a 15-acre water tucked into the Raquette Lake township — remote enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational fishing reports, and small enough that it likely holds brook trout if it holds anything at all. The name suggests either old hunting-camp lore or a nod to the diving ducks that work these smaller ponds during migration, though no one seems to have written the story down. Access details are scarce in the DEC records, which usually means either private land complications or a bushwhack approach from a larger trail system in the area. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry and stumble across it, you've earned it.
Helms Pond is a 10-acre backcountry water in the Blue Mountain Lake township — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational maps, quiet enough that it sees minimal pressure even in high season. No formal trail access or DEC designation, which means this is private-land or bushwhack territory depending on where you approach from; check current land status and access rights before heading in. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and softwood forest typical of the central Adirondacks — the kind of water that rewards local knowledge and a willingness to navigate without blazes. No fish data on record, but ponds of this size and remoteness often hold brook trout if the inlet streams are cold enough.
Hess Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that most paddlers miss it entirely, tucked into the drainage maze south of the main lake basin. No fish data on record, no formal trails marked on the quad, no lean-tos flagged in the DEC inventory — which means it's either a bushwhack destination for someone with a GPS track and a tolerance for blowdown, or it's a seasonal wetland that barely holds water past June. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry with a topo map and time to spare, it's the kind of dot that raises the question: *is there even open water when you get there?*
Hewitt Pond is a 167-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — large enough to feel expansive, quiet enough to stay off the heavy-traffic lists. No fish species data on record, which could mean unstocked, undersampled, or simply overlooked by DEC surveys; local intel is the only reliable guide here. The pond sits in that middle-elevation zone where the High Peaks feel distant and the lake-country vibe starts to take over — less granite drama, more softwood shoreline and seasonal camps. Access and launch details require on-the-ground confirmation; this is the kind of pond where you check the town clerk's office or ask at the nearest gas station.
Hiawatha Lake is a five-acre pond tucked into the Old Forge network — small enough that it doesn't show up on most regional itineraries, but accessible enough that locals know it as a quiet paddle or a winter skating spot when conditions hold. The water sits in second-growth forest typical of the working woodland west of the Fulton Chain, without the dramatic relief or named-peak context of the High Peaks corridor. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means either light stocking history or a pond that winters hard and doesn't hold trout reliably. Worth a look if you're based in Old Forge and want something off the main lake traffic — but verify access and parking locally before you load the canoe.
Hiawatha Lake is a five-acre pond tucked into the Old Forge township — small enough that most paddlers would call it a pond, but it carries the lake designation on the map. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either stocked intermittently, fished lightly, or left to whatever brookies or sunfish wandered in on their own. The Old Forge corridor is dense with both private shoreline and public access points, so confirm ownership and launch access before planning a trip. If you're looking for a quiet float without the July traffic of the bigger Old Forge waters, it's worth a closer look at the current DEC access map.
Hidden Pond is one of dozens of small, nameless-on-the-map waters scattered across the Saranac Lake region — five acres tucked into forest cover with no formal trail access and no stocking records. The name suggests local use rather than DEC designation, which usually means a property-line situation or a bushwhack-only approach known to a few families or hunting camps. Waters like this hold brook trout if they hold anything at all, but without access data or angling reports it's a placeholder on the list more than a destination. If you know the approach or the history, we'd welcome the detail.
Higby Twin Ponds sits in the Old Forge area with 16 acres of combined surface — two small basins linked close enough to share a name but separated enough to hold their own shorelines. No fish stocking records and no formal trail maintenance means this is local knowledge territory: the kind of water that shows up on topo maps but not in DEC day-hike guides. The ponds drain toward the Moose River drainage, tucked into the working forest west of the main tourist corridor where timber roads and hunting camp access define the approach more than blazed paths. Best bet for intel is the Old Forge hardware store or a conversation with someone who's hunted the ridges above South Branch.
Higby Twin Ponds sits in the Old Forge area as a paired-pond system totaling 14 acres — the kind of modest backcountry water that doesn't appear on most recreation maps but holds appeal for paddlers willing to work for solitude. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means brook trout if anything, or simply a quiet float through low-traffic wetland. Access details are sparse in the public record; local knowledge or a DEC Unit Management Plan would clarify whether there's a trail, a bushwhack, or a put-in worth the effort. Worth a call to the Old Forge Visitor Center before committing the afternoon.
High Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 48-acre water in the rolling country west of the main lake, far enough off the beaten path that it doesn't show up on most paddlers' radar. No fish species on record, no maintained trail markers in the DEC database, and no nearby High Peaks to anchor a day-hike loop — this is backcountry by virtue of distance and low visitation rather than terrain. The pond likely sees more moose than anglers. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake wild forest and looking for a quiet bushwhack objective, High Pond rewards the effort with solitude.
High Pond sits northwest of Tupper Lake village — a 41-acre water in a region better known for its larger lakes and motorized access. The pond holds no state fish-stocking records, which in Tupper Lake country usually means either natural brook trout populations or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter drawdown. Without formal trail records or lean-to data, this is local knowledge territory: ask at the Tupper Lake outfitters or the town office for current access. In a region dominated by Big Tupper, Raquette River paddling, and snowmobile corridors, the smaller named ponds tend to be hunting-season destinations or spring bushwhacks.
High Pond is a 9-acre water tucked into the Raquette Lake township — far enough off the main corridor that it doesn't show up on most recreational checklists. No fish data on record, no DEC-maintained access trail, no lean-to — which typically means it's either a beaver-dammed remnant on private land or a seasonal flow-through pond that dries to mud by late summer. The name survives on the USGS quad, but in practice this one's more map artifact than destination. If you're poking around the Raquette drainage with a topo and a compass, you might stumble across it — otherwise, there are fifty better ponds within ten miles.
Higley Flow is a 24-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to feel intimate, large enough to paddle without circling back every ten minutes. The name suggests dam or beaver work at some point, but the current state is what matters: it's off the main corridor, which means you're not sharing the water with a parade of day-trippers from Lake Placid. No fish data on record, so if you're going in with a rod, you're scouting. Best bet is to ask at a local shop in Tupper Lake before you drive out — someone will know if it's worth the gas.
Higley Flow is a 349-acre impoundment on the Raquette River just north of Tupper Lake village — wide, shallow, marshy at the edges, and more fisherman's float-tube water than postcard pond. The state boat launch off County Route 421 (Higley Flow Road) puts you into a maze of bays, islands, and deadwater channels that bleed into the main river corridor; paddlers treat it as a link in longer Raquette trips, not a destination. The flow sits low in the watershed with soft banks and lily pads by midsummer — classic northern pike and bass habitat, though no recent stocking or survey data is on file. Local anglers work the drop-offs near the dam at first light.
Hillabrandt Vly is a 58-acre pond in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — one of the smaller waters tucked into the quieter folds of the southern Adirondacks, where the terrain softens and the crowds thin. The "Vly" (a Dutch-derived term for wetland or marsh) signals the pond's character: expect shallow edges, a marshy shoreline, and the kind of stillwater habitat that holds wood ducks and painted turtles more reliably than trout. No fish species on record, which often means either unstocked and acidic or too shallow to winter-over a sustainable population. Access details are sparse — check local topo maps or inquire with the town of Day for put-in options if you're launching a canoe.
Hilliards Creek is a 22-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to paddle without circling back on yourself in ten minutes. The name suggests an old landowner or settler family, common in this part of the Park where logging camps and subsistence farms preceded the blue line. No fish species data on file, which typically means either unstocked native brookies that no one's bothered to survey, or a pond that winters too shallow to hold trout year-round. Worth a look if you're mapping quiet water in the Tupper orbit and don't need a marked trailhead to make it count.
Hinchings Pond is a 16-acre water tucked into the Old Forge region — small enough to slip past most paddlers chasing bigger destinations like the Fulton Chain or the Moose River Plains, but open enough to hold afternoon sun and decent shoreline access if you know where to find it. No fish species data on file, which typically means either light pressure or light documentation; local anglers sometimes find warmwater species in ponds this size in the region, but it's not a known destination fishery. The pond sits in working forest country where private holdings and public easements checkerboard the landscape — worth verifying access before you paddle. Old Forge town launch is the regional hub, five minutes from anything you need to resupply.
Hines Pond is a 19-acre water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddlers' radar, large enough to hold interest for an afternoon if you're looking for quiet water away from the reservoir's motorboat traffic. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked or not surveyed in recent years; worth a casting attempt if you're already there but don't plan a trip around it. Access details are thin — this is the kind of pond that either has a local dirt-road put-in or requires a bushwhack from a nearby trail system, and neither shows up in the standard DEC registers.
Hitchcock Pond is a 29-acre water tucked into the Old Forge corridor — small enough to stay off most touring routes, large enough to hold a decent shoreline if you're willing to bushwhack or paddle in. No maintained trail, no DEC campsite designation, no stocking records in the file — this is the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map and rewards the curious paddler more than the planner. The Old Forge area is laced with interconnected ponds and carries; Hitchcock sits in that network without being a marquee stop on any of the classic routes. If you're already on the water nearby and want to poke around, it's there — but it won't announce itself.
Hitchins Pond is a mid-sized water in the Tupper Lake township — 254 acres, set back from the main roads in a landscape of mixed forest and private holdings that defines much of the northwestern park. Without fish stocking records or maintained public access, it falls into that category of Adirondack ponds that exist more on the map than in the rotation of anglers and paddlers — visible from the air, traced on the DEC wetlands inventory, but quiet. The shoreline is a mix of wetland fingers and wooded banks; likely accessible by landowner permission or old logging routes, but not a destination with a trailhead sign. A placeholder water — named, counted, undramatized.
Hitchins Pond is a two-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it lives in the gaps between the named trailheads and the paddling routes that define the region. No fish survey data on file with DEC, which for a pond this size usually means limited depth, soft bottom, possible winter kill, or simply that no one has bothered to document what swims there. It's the kind of water that shows up on the quad map but not in the guidebooks — worth knowing if you're studying the drainage between bigger lakes or piecing together a bushwhack route, but not a destination on its own. If you're in the area and have local beta, it's worth a look; otherwise, this one stays quiet by default.
Hoel Pond is a 460-acre lake in the Tupper Lake region — mid-sized by Adirondack standards, large enough to hold some wind but not on the tourist circuit. The lack of species data on record suggests limited management interest or stocking history, though most waters this size in the northwest corner hold warmwater species — bass, pike, perch — and the occasional remnant brook trout population in cooler pockets. Access details are scarce, which typically means private shoreline or limited public entry points; worth confirming locally before launching. If you're working the Tupper Lake area and need a Plan B water, Hoel sits in that second-tier rotation — fishable, swimmable, but not the headliner.
A 440-acre pond at the eastern gateway to the St. Regis Canoe Area. Often the put-in for the Floodwood Pond loop and an early stop on the canoe-area through-paddle.
Hog Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreation maps, and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means brookies if anything, or nothing at all. These minimal-access Old Forge ponds tend to be the domain of locals with canoes and a tolerance for bushwhacking — less a destination than a secret held by whoever knows the woods well enough to find it. If you're asking about access, you probably aren't going.
Holcomb Pond is a 27-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough to stay off most regional itineraries, large enough to hold a quiet morning paddle if you can find the access. No fish species data on record, which either means it hasn't been surveyed recently or it's shallow enough to winterkill in hard years. The pond sits in transition forest between the High Peaks corridor and the working landscape to the north — more likely to see a great blue heron than a climbing party. Worth a look if you're mapping overlooked water in the region, but confirm access before you load the canoe.
Home Pond is a 9-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational radar, set back from the main lake corridor where most of the region's traffic concentrates. No fish species data on file, no formal trails indexed to it, and no nearby peaks to anchor it in a day-hiking loop — the kind of water that exists primarily as a map name and a dot in the forest. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry by canoe or bushwhack, it's worth a GPS waypoint; otherwise, it stays quiet by default.
Honey Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull much attention, which may be exactly its appeal. No fish records on file, no marked trails, no camping infrastructure — the kind of pond that exists on the map but lives in that gray zone between public access and practical obscurity. If you're poking around the backroads near Paradox Lake and spot it, you're likely looking at a bushwhack or private land question. Worth a call to the Ray Brook DEC office before you commit to finding it.
Hope Pond is a 23-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to miss on a map, quiet enough to hold your attention if you find it. No fish stocking records on file, which suggests either unstocked native brookies or a pond that's been left to its own devices for decades. The name shows up in DEC records and on older USGS quads, but it doesn't pull the day-hiker traffic of the bigger named waters nearby — which means it's either off-trail access or tucked into private land with limited public approach. Worth confirming access and ownership before you bushwhack in.
Hopkinton Pond is a one-acre pocket tucked somewhere in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and remote enough that it doesn't register on most trail maps or fish stocking records. Waters this size in the northern Adirondacks are often old beaver work or glacial depressions that never quite grew into destinations; they hold their own quiet, but you won't find a parking lot or a DEC campsite waiting. If you're looking for it, you're probably bushwhacking — and if you find it, you'll have it to yourself.
Hopsicker Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Old Forge basin — the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC list but not on most people's radar. No fish data on file, no established trails noted in the standard references, no lean-tos or designated campsites. It's likely a bushwhack-only access or a local secret tucked into the working forest around the Moose River Plains — worth knowing it exists if you're studying the Old Forge watershed, but not a destination unless you're already in the neighborhood with a canoe and a willingness to navigate off-trail.
Hornet Ponds is a 47-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of those mid-sized waters that sits off the main recreation corridors, less documented than the roadside ponds and less hiked than the backcountry destinations. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either limited stocking history or limited angler pressure — sometimes both. The name suggests either an old logging-era nickname or a territorial yellowjacket colony that made an impression on early surveyors. Worth a look if you're mapping the ponds between Tupper and the Five Ponds Wilderness, but bring a topo and don't count on a maintained trail.
Hornet Ponds — plural, though the water reads as a single 33-acre body on most maps — sits in the working forest south of Tupper Lake, part of the patchwork of private timberland, easement access, and state parcels that defines the northwest Adirondacks. Access typically follows gated logging roads; conditions and permissions shift with ownership and harvest schedules, so local inquiry is standard protocol. The ponds see more use from hunters in fall than paddlers in summer — this is grouse and deer country, not trout water, and the shoreline reflects it: lowland hardwoods, alder thickets, and the kind of quiet that comes from being off the standard lake-loop circuit. Check with the regional DEC office or a Tupper Lake outfitter for current access status before heading in.
Horseshoe Pond is a 28-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to paddle in an hour, large enough to feel private once you're on it. No formal fish stocking records on file, which typically means wild brookies or nothing at all; local knowledge runs stronger than DEC data for ponds this size. Access details aren't well-documented in the standard trail registries, so it's worth checking with the local DEC office or a Tupper Lake outfitter before planning a trip. These quiet, mid-size ponds often require a short bushwhack or an unmarked woods road — the kind of water that rewards persistence but doesn't advertise itself.
