Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Miller Pond is a one-acre pocket tucked into the southern Adirondack foothills near Lake George — small enough that it doesn't appear on many trail maps, and likely private or landlocked without documented public access. Waters this size in the Lake George region are often remnants of old beaver work or spring-fed depressions that hold through summer, more significant as wetland habitat than as paddling or fishing destinations. No fish species data on record, which tracks for a pond this small and potentially ephemeral. If you're hunting micro-ponds in this zone, confirm access and ownership before setting out — most one-acre waters here are bordered by private land.
Moses Kill is a 4-acre pond in the Lake George region — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps, and remote enough that access details are effectively local knowledge. The name suggests old settlement-era surveying or logging activity (a "kill" being Dutch for creek or channel), though no formal trail or DEC campsite is associated with the water today. Without documented fish data or maintained access, this is the kind of pond that shows up in deed descriptions and on USGS quads but rarely sees intentional visitors. If you're headed there, you're likely bushwhacking or you already know the owner.
Mud Pond — a 12-acre water in the Lake George region — sits in the category of ponds that reward the effort to find them but don't advertise their location. No fish data on record, no nearby peaks, no maintained trail infrastructure in the database: this is a pond for wanderers who like their Adirondack waters without the amenities. The name tells you what to expect underfoot — soft margins, muck bottom, probably beaver activity — and the size tells you what to expect on the water: intimate, shallow, the kind of place where a canoe or kayak makes more sense than a fishing rod. If you know where it is, you already know why you're going.
Mud Pond is a 16-acre water in the Lake George region — small enough to slip past most paddlers, no fish data on file, and the kind of name that keeps the crowds elsewhere. The pond sits outside the High Peaks corridor, where the Lake George Wild Forest transitions into quieter, less-trafficked drainage — more likely to see a heron than another boat. Without designated campsites or a marquee trailhead nearby, it's a place for anyone mapping their own route through the southern Adirondacks, where a 16-acre pond with no pressure is exactly the point. Check DEC access maps before heading in — not all small ponds in this zone have maintained approaches.
Mud Pond — all ten acres of it — sits somewhere in the sprawl of state land and private parcels west of Lake George, the kind of small water that shows up on the DEC list but doesn't generate its own trailhead sign or parking pull-off. No fish stocking records, no documented access notes, no nearby peaks to anchor a day trip — which means it's either genuinely remote, landlocked by private holdings, or both. The Lake George Wild Forest holds dozens of these small ponds, some reachable by bushwhack or old logging trace, others effectively inaccessible without crossing posted land. If you're hunting for it, start with the DEC unit management plan and a phone call to the Ray Brook office.
Mud Pond — three acres in the Lake George Wild Forest — is one of those small, unnamed-on-most-maps wetlands that dot the region's mid-elevation forests. No fish stocking records, no trail register, no lean-to: it's the kind of water you find by accident on a bushwhack or notice from a ridgeline while heading somewhere else. The name tells you what to expect — shallow, marshy shoreline, likely beaver activity, and better suited to spotting wood ducks or a moose track than planning a fishing trip. If you're looking for solitude and don't mind wet boots, ponds like this deliver exactly that.
Mud Pond is one of those small, wooded ponds in the Lake George region that carries its name honestly — shallow, organic-bottomed, more wetland than open water, and the kind of place that fills in a little more each decade. At 20 acres it's not a destination water, but it holds its place in the drainage, quietly cycling nutrients and hosting frogs, turtles, and the occasional wood duck. No fish data on record, which tracks for a pond this small and soft-bottomed. If you're looking for solitude over scenery, and you don't mind a little muck underfoot, it delivers.
