Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Lake Arnold is a one-acre pond tucked somewhere in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it doesn't register on most recreational radar and likely named for a local family or early surveyor rather than any geographic prominence. No fish stocking records and no established camping or trail infrastructure in the immediate vicinity, which means it's either a seasonal wetland, a private holdout, or one of those dozen forgotten ponds that only appear on DEC wetland maps and old USGS quads. If you're hunting it down, you're doing it for completeness or because you found it by accident bushwhacking between better-known destinations.
Lake Jimmy is a 39-acre pond in the Lake Placid corridor — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel like its own destination rather than a trailside accent. The name suggests a local naming convention (probably mid-20th century, possibly a camp owner or guide), but state records don't list fish species or maintain formal public access infrastructure — often the mark of a water tucked into private or semi-private holdings. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and parking before you commit; not every named water in the Park opens its shoreline to day-use visitors.
Lake Sally is a 44-acre pond in the Lake Placid region with limited public information on file — no species data, no documented access routes, no nearby trailheads flagged in the standard references. It sits in the broader orbital zone of Lake Placid proper, likely private or roadside with restricted access, which is typical for smaller named waters in this corridor that predate modern recreational mapping. If you're targeting it specifically, start with the local DEC office in Ray Brook or the town clerk — they'll know whether there's a public right-of-way or if it's strictly a shoreline-owner pond. No guarantees on fish, but most Adirondack ponds this size that aren't stocked or maintained drop off the angler radar within a generation.
Lake Stevens is a one-acre pond in the Lake Placid region — small enough that "pond" is the more honest term, though the name stuck. No fish species data on file, which likely means it's either stocked inconsistently or holds small native brookies that don't draw much angler attention. Without documented access points or nearby trailheads in the curated directory, it's either private, roadside with minimal pull-off, or tucked into a corner of the township that sees more local use than through-hiker traffic. If you know the water, you know it — if you're looking for it on a map, start with the Lake Placid town clerk or a DEC regional contact.
Little Cherrypatch Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it likely holds brook trout if it holds fish at all, though DEC records show no survey data and no stocking history. The name suggests old logging-era nomenclature, the kind of water that shows up on USGS quads but not in guidebooks. Without documented access or a maintained trailhead, this is either private, bushwhack-only, or both — worth confirming ownership and approach before planning a visit.
Livingston Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid corridor — small enough that it doesn't appear on most trail maps and rarely shows up in regional fishing or paddling logs. No fish species data on record, which typically means either unstocked and unsampled or too shallow and acidic to hold trout through summer — common for the smaller High Peaks waters tucked into spruce drainages. The name suggests private or semi-private history, and without public access information on file it's likely either landlocked by private parcels or accessible only by bushwhack. If you know the put-in, it's the kind of place you keep to yourself.
Loch Bonnie is a two-acre pond tucked into the Lake Placid township — small enough that it rarely appears on anything but the most detailed maps, and quiet enough that most visitors to the region never hear the name. The "Loch" suggests Scottish-influenced naming from the late 19th or early 20th century, when European placenames were in fashion across the Adirondacks, though the pond itself predates any romanticism. No fish species data on record, which typically means limited depth, heavy vegetation, or both — a place for dragonflies and wood frogs, not anglers. Worth tracking down if you're compiling a completist list of named waters in the Lake Placid corridor, but manage expectations accordingly.