Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Lake Francis is a 33-acre pond in the Indian Lake township — deep enough in the southern Adirondacks that it sits outside the usual tourist circuits and sees pressure mainly from locals and seasonal residents. No fish stocking records and no official access data in the DEC files, which typically means private shoreline or legacy camp ownership; if you're not connected to a camp on the water, this one stays off the list. The name shows up on USGS quads and older trail maps, but it's not a destination pond — it's the kind of water you pass on a backroad or hear about third-hand at a town meeting. Worth confirming access and regs with the Indian Lake town office before planning a trip.
Lake Snow — technically a pond at 54 acres — sits in the Indian Lake township without much fanfare: no documented fish surveys, no named trailheads in the immediate vicinity, no lean-tos or primitive sites flagged in the DEC records. It's the kind of water that shows up on the map but not in the guidebooks, likely accessed by bushwhack or private land arrangements rather than marked trail. The lack of stocking records suggests either limited access or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer — though locals with boots-on-the-ground knowledge may know otherwise. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or a conversation at the Byron Park general store if you're determined to fish it.
Little Rankin Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake township — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational maps and remote enough that access details remain local knowledge. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means brook trout if anything, or just a cold-water swimming hole tucked into second-growth hardwoods. The Indian Lake region runs deep with old logging roads and unmaintained trail systems; ponds this size were often tie-in points for timber operations or hunting camps in the early 20th century. If you're headed out there, bring a GPS track and confirm access with the town clerk or a local outfitter — this one won't have trail signs.
Lonesome Pond lives up to its name — a 9-acre glacial bowl in the Indian Lake backcountry with no maintained trail access and no particular fishing reputation to draw a crowd. It sits in working forest, the kind of place you find on a topo map while planning a bushwhack or stumble into while hunting the ridges south of Cedar River. The water is dark, tannin-stained, ringed by softwood and blowdown; if there are brookies, they're small and scrappy, and no one's keeping records. This is old Adirondack remoteness — not scenic, not documented, just alone.
Long Pond sits in the Indian Lake township — a 41-acre water in a region dense with ponds and working forestland, where named waters outnumber the people who fish them. No fish survey data on file with DEC, which in this part of the park usually means either the pond hasn't been stocked in decades or it holds wild brookies that nobody's bothered to document. Access details are scarce; if there's a formal trail it's not widely advertised, and most small ponds in this area are reached by old logging roads, compass work, or local knowledge passed along at the hardware store. Worth a call to the Indian Lake chamber or the local DEC office before you commit to the drive.
Long Pond — one of dozens in the park with that name — sits in the Indian Lake township, a 20-acre water in the southern-central Adirondacks where the terrain softens from High Peaks granite into rolling hardwood forest. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means unstocked, unmanaged, and either brook trout water or fishless depending on pH and inlet flow. Indian Lake the town is a chain-of-lakes hub (the hamlet sits on the lake of the same name), and the smaller ponds in the township tend to be either roadside access or short bushwhacks off seasonal logging roads. Worth a call to the Indian Lake outfitters or the town office if you're chasing a put-in — local knowledge fills the gaps that the trailhead signs don't.
Lost Pond — three acres, somewhere in the sprawl of state land around Indian Lake — exists in the kind of cartographic limbo that defines a lot of small Adirondack water: named on the quad, no formal trail, no fish stocking records, no DEC campsite designation. It's the sort of place that gets visited by hunters in November, old-timers who grew up nearby, and the occasional wanderer with a USGS map and a compass who doesn't mind bushwhacking. Without nearby peaks or designated access, Lost Pond stays quiet by default — a dot on the map that rewards the effort only if you're already out there for other reasons.
Lower Pit is a two-acre pond in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it barely registers on most maps, and remote enough that it stays off the casual paddler's radar. No fish data on record, no maintained trails leading to the shoreline, and no nearby peaks to frame the view — this is backcountry water for orienteering types or hunters who know the drainage. The name suggests old quarry or logging history, but without a clear access point or a reason to bushwhack in, Lower Pit remains what it sounds like: a footnote pond in a township full of bigger, easier options. If you're already back there, you know why you came.
