Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Marsh Pond is a 3-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it lives up to its name, likely rimmed with wetland vegetation and shallow enough to warm quickly in summer. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either marginal habitat or a pond that simply fell off the DEC rotation decades ago. Waters this size in the Tupper area often sit tucked between private parcels or logging roads, accessible but not advertised. If you're poking around dirt roads south or west of town and stumble onto it, expect lily pads, dragonflies, and the kind of quiet that comes with being too small to bother naming on most maps.
Marsh Ponds sits in the working forest northwest of Tupper Lake — 19 acres split into two connected basins, typical of the glacial kettle ponds that dot the mixed hardwood and spruce lowlands in this corner of the Park. Access depends on current timber company roads and easement status; this isn't trailhead country, and conditions change with active logging. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means shallow water, soft bottom, and better habitat for painted turtles than trout. If you're driving between Tupper and Cranberry Lake and see the name on a blue DEC sign, you're in the right drainage — but confirm access before you walk in.
McBride Pond is an 8-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational lists, which usually means local knowledge and light pressure. No fish species on record with DEC, which could mean unstocked, unsampled, or simply off the stocking rotation; worth a call to the regional fisheries office if you're considering a paddle-and-cast trip. The acreage suggests a pond you'd explore in an hour or two by canoe, assuming you can find access — many of the smaller Tupper-area ponds sit on private land or require a woods walk from a nearby road. Check property lines before you go.
McCavanaugh Pond is a 30-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to fly under most paddlers' radar, quiet enough to keep it that way. No stocking records and no public access data in the DEC files, which usually means either private shoreline or a put-in that requires local knowledge and a willingness to bushwhack. The Tupper Lake area holds dozens of ponds like this one: tucked into working forest land, visible from a logging road or a high point, reachable if you know where to look. If you're determined to fish it, start with the town assessor's parcel map and a conversation at a local tackle shop.
McCuen Pond is a seven-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't anchor a trail system or appear on most recreational itineraries, but mapped and named, which usually means local knowledge and occasional use. No fish species data on record, which suggests either minimal stocking history or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer drawdown. Without documented access or nearby peaks, this is likely a bushwhack or private-road destination — worth confirming land status and access rights before planning a trip. If you're working a topographic loop in the area, McCuen is the kind of unmarked stop that reveals itself only to people moving slowly with a map.
McDonald Pond sits in the Tupper Lake region at 77 acres — mid-sized water in a township where working forest and private holdings dominate the shoreline mosaic. No public access or fish stocking records on file, which typically means gated logging roads or grandfathered camps; the kind of pond that shows up on the DeLorme but not in the DEC launch inventory. If you're poking around the gravel roads west of Tupper Lake proper and see the name on a gate sign, assume it's spoken for. Worth a property-line check on the DEC land viewer before you bushwhack.
Medbury Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake town corridor — small enough to be overlooked on the regional lake maps, quiet enough to matter if you're the one who finds it. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trailhead signage, no DEC campsites — which means it's either strictly private, landlocked by commercial timber parcels, or accessible only by someone who knows the old skidder roads. If you're poking around the Township 6 / Piercefield area and see a turnoff, ask locally before you walk in.
Middle Pond sits in the working-forest country south of Tupper Lake — 62 acres of water in a landscape defined more by logging roads and private timber holdings than by marked trail systems or state campgrounds. Access details here are fluid: what's open-gate this season may be gated next, and the DEC doesn't maintain formal put-ins or camping infrastructure the way it does on more heavily visited waters. The pond itself holds water, holds fish (though no species surveys are on record), and sits far enough off the main tourism corridors that it rewards locals and canoeists willing to do their own navigation homework. Call the regional DEC office in Ray Brook before planning a trip — access here is a conversation, not a trailhead sign.
Midget Pond is a two-acre pocket of water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose traffic than paddler traffic, and remote enough that if you're looking at it, you either stumbled onto it or you meant to be there. No fish data on record, which at this acreage usually means shallow, weedy, or both — the kind of pond that matters more to the watershed than to the angler. Worth noting if you're hunting vernal pools or doing wetland inventory work, otherwise a dot on the map that stays a dot.
Mile Pond is a ten-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that the name likely describes the distance to something (a road, a bigger lake, a trailhead) rather than anything about the pond itself. No fish species on record, which in this part of the park usually means either private land with limited access or a shallow basin that doesn't hold trout through summer. Without documented public access or nearby trails, this is one to note on the map but not to plan a trip around unless you're working local knowledge or own adjacent property.
Minnow Pond is a 17-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to slip past notice on most maps, large enough to hold a paddler's interest for an hour or two. The name suggests brook trout habitat, but no species data is on record; likely it's either unstocked and fished-out, or holding a modest population of wild brookies that never made it into DEC surveys. Without established trail access or nearby peaks, this is the kind of pond that rewards local knowledge — ask at a Tupper Lake bait shop or the town clerk's office for access details. Seventeen acres means you can see the whole thing from any point on the water.
Moosehead Pond is a 60-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — quiet, off the main recreation corridors, and not heavily trafficked compared to the ponds closer to the Saranac chain or the High Peaks. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either been overlooked or stocked inconsistently; worth a check with the local DEC office if you're planning a fishing trip. The name suggests moose habitat, and the Tupper Lake backcountry still sees occasional moose traffic, especially in the marshier lowlands where ponds like this sit. Access details are thin — if you know the put-in or the approach, you're probably already local.
Mountain Pond is a 17-acre water tucked in the Tupper Lake wild — small enough to paddle in an hour, remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreation checklists. No fish stocking records on file, no trailhead signage on the state's official maps, which means it's either a bushwhack destination, a local spot accessed by logging road, or a pond that simply sits quiet between better-known waters. If you're searching it out, confirm access and ownership before you go — not every named water in the Park has a public put-in.
Mountain Pond is a 13-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough that it holds its own character against the shoreline pines. No fish stocking records on file, which in this part of the Park usually means either native brookies that never made anyone's creel survey or a pond that winters too hard to hold trout year-round. The name suggests ridge access rather than roadside pull-off, but without a clear trail register in the DEC database it's likely old-growth local knowledge or a bushwhack destination. Worth a call to the Tupper Lake outfitters if you're hunting unmapped water.
Mud Pond is a one-acre pocket of water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely warms quickly in summer and could hold pickerel or bullhead if it holds anything at all, though no fish species are on record. The name and the acreage suggest a shallow basin, the kind of pond that serves more as wetland habitat than destination water, and without nearby peaks or maintained trail access it sits off the recreational radar. In a region dense with larger, better-known waters — Tupper Lake itself, the Raquette River corridor, the St. Regis canoe area — Mud Pond occupies the quiet tier: a dot on the map, a place for moose and heron, not for paddlers with a weekend plan.
Mud Pond is a seven-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose traffic than paddler traffic, and remote enough that it probably doesn't have a maintained access trail. The name says it out loud: shallow water, organic bottom, the kind of pond that's more wetland than open water by late summer. No fish data on record, which tracks for a pond this size in this kind of basin — it may hold brookies if there's inlet flow and winter oxygen, but just as likely it's a seasonal breeding ground for amphibians and a waypoint for waterfowl. If you're looking for it, start with the DEC's Unit Management Plan maps for the region and a tolerance for bushwhacking.
Mud Pond — one of dozens in the Park with the same name — sits in the Tupper Lake region as a small, shallow 13-acre body with no fish species on DEC record and no major peaks or trail systems nearby. The name tracks: soft-bottomed ponds like this tend to be seasonal fishing spots at best, with water levels and oxygen conditions that don't favor stocked or native trout populations. These are the waters that fill the gaps between the destinations — ecological service ponds, breeding habitat for amphibians, quiet water for a solo paddle if you can find access. Check with local DEC or town offices for road access; many small ponds in this category sit on private or timber company land with variable public entry.
Mud Pond — sixteen acres tucked into the working forest northeast of Tupper Lake — is one of dozens of small, unnamed-access ponds that dot the private timberlands and state forest around the village. No formal DEC trail register, no fish stocking records, no lean-to at the shore: this is the category of Adirondack water that gets visited by locals who know the logging road network, or not at all. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake wild forest blocks with a topo map and a sense of direction, ponds like this one offer the reliable reward of solitude and a lunch rock. Expect beaver activity and shallow, tea-colored water.
Mud Pond is one of those small waters north of Tupper Lake that carries its name honestly — shallow, marshy margins, probably more appealing to waterfowl than paddlers. At nine acres it's closer to a wetland than a fishing destination, and the lack of recorded species data suggests DEC surveys have passed it by or found little worth stocking. If you're bushwhacking the backcountry between Five Ponds Wilderness and the Bog River flow, you'll cross a dozen ponds like this one — functional wetlands in the working forest, not destinations. No maintained access, no lean-tos, no reason to visit unless you're a birder with a taste for beaver ponds.
Mud Pond — five acres in the Tupper Lake township — is one of dozens of small, off-grid ponds scattered across the northwestern Adirondacks that exist primarily as topographic features rather than destinations. No fish stocking records, no formal trail, no shoreline development to speak of. These modest waters serve as navigation markers for hunters and timber cruisers, occasional moose habitat, and reminders that not every pond in the Park needs to justify itself with recreation value. If you're looking at Mud Pond on a map, you're likely lost or you know exactly why you're there.
Muskrat Pond sits on 35 acres in the Tupper Lake region — a small, quiet water without much written record and no fish stocking data in the DEC files. The name suggests beaver activity at some point, though whether that's historical or ongoing depends on which decade you visited. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake wild often hold brookies or perch that never made it into official surveys, but you're rolling the dice. Best guess for access: check the DEC Tupper Lake Unit map for forestland boundaries and old logging roads — most waters this remote are walk-ins, not drive-ups.
