Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Racquette River — listed here as a 4-acre pond near Tupper Lake — is almost certainly a slack-water section or oxbow along the larger Racquette River system, which drains north from Blue Mountain Lake through Long Lake, Tupper Lake, and onward to the St. Regis watershed. The Racquette proper is a classic Adirondack paddle route with dozens of access points, lean-tos, and carry trails; this particular pond-sized segment may be a quiet eddy or upstream impoundment worth locating on a USGS quad if you're threading together multi-day river trips. No fish data on record, but the main Racquette holds northern pike, smallmouth bass, and yellow perch through most of its length. Check DEC access site listings for Tupper Lake or consult a paddling guidebook to pin down which stretch this refers to.
Readway Ponds — two small basins totaling about two acres — sit in the working forest east of Tupper Lake, tucked into a landscape of private timberland and unmapped two-tracks where public access is ambiguous at best. No DEC fisheries data on record, no marked trailhead, no lean-to within shouting distance — this is the kind of water that shows up on the quad map but rarely sees a canoe. If you're determined to find it, expect bushwhacking, posted signs, and the likelihood that you've driven past better options. The ponds are there; whether you can legally get to them is another question entirely.
Readway Ponds — a pair of small water bodies totaling roughly four acres — sit in the working forest northeast of Tupper Lake, tucked into a landscape of private timber tracts and seasonal hunting camps rather than state land corridors. No formal DEC access, no fish stocking records, no trailhead parking lot — this is backcountry by obscurity rather than wilderness designation. The ponds appear on the USGS quad but not in the rotation of stocker-truck routes or lean-to itineraries; if you know where they are, you probably hunt the surrounding ridges or log the nearby cuts. Worth noting on the map for completeness, not for planning a weekend paddle.
Readway Ponds — a five-acre cluster in the Tupper Lake region — sits far enough off the main travel corridors that it carries no fish stocking records and no trail register traffic to speak of. The ponds are classic unmanaged Adirondack water: shallow, tannic, beaver-worked, likely holding wild brookies if they hold anything at all. Access details are sparse, which in this part of the park usually means old logging roads, private land considerations, or both. If you're headed in, bring a map, expect bushwhacking, and don't count on company.
Readway Ponds — two small kettle ponds in the Tupper Lake lowlands — sit in mixed hardwood-conifer forest north of the main village corridor, part of the scattered wetland complexes that define the northern Adirondack terrain. The ponds are linked by shallow channel flow and surrounded by brushy shoreline; access details are sparse, likely requiring navigation through private or undeveloped land without formal trail infrastructure. No fish stocking records on file, though shallow northern ponds like these sometimes hold stunted brook trout or fallfish populations that arrived during spring flood pulses. Best approached with local knowledge and a float tube if you're curious about unmapped water.
Readway Ponds — a one-acre cluster in the Tupper Lake region — sits in that category of named Adirondack waters that exist more on the map than in common circulation. No species data on file, no established access in the usual DEC inventory, and a name that suggests either old survey work or a family claim long since absorbed back into working forest. These are the ponds that turn up when you're grid-searching a DeLorme or chasing a old logging road on a hunch — more likely to be a destination for someone with a GPS unit and an afternoon to kill than a marked trailhead. If you know it, you know it; if you don't, there are a hundred easier places to fish within ten miles of Tupper Lake village.
River Pond sits northeast of Tupper Lake proper — 22 acres, low-traffic, and one of those mid-sized ponds that doesn't make the short list but fishes quietly if you bring a canoe. No state-maintained access or designated campsites on record, which usually means private shoreline or informal carry-in from a nearby road. The name suggests it might sit near or between flow channels — common in this part of the park where ponds string together through beaver meadows and slow-moving creeks. Worth a knock on a local door or a call to a Tupper Lake outfitter if you're looking for brookies and solitude without the scenic-overlook crowds.
Rock Pond is a 16-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that you're unlikely to share it. No fish data on record, which usually means brook trout or nothing at all, and no formal DEC access trail in the standard registers. These off-grid ponds tend to be approached by old logging roads, unmarked herd paths, or private land crossings — worth confirming access locally before you bushwhack in with a canoe on your shoulders.
Rock Pond is a 59-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — quiet, off-grid, and largely undocumented in the standard guidebooks. No fish stocking records on file, no designated campsites in the DEC inventory, no formal trail mileage to cite — which makes it either a genuine bushwhack destination or a local-knowledge spot that hasn't made it into the digital record yet. If you're headed out, call the Tupper Lake DEC office or stop at a local outfitter for current access intel; some of these waters live only in the memories of trappers and old hunting camp logs.
Rock Pond is a 26-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of dozens of mid-size ponds scattered across the working forest and conservation easement lands west of the High Peaks. No fish species on record, which typically means limited survey work rather than fishless water, though small remote ponds in this zone often hold brook trout or go barren depending on winter oxygen levels and beaver activity. The name suggests ledge or outcrop shoreline, common in ponds tucked into the granite and gneiss terrain between Tupper and the Five Ponds Wilderness. Access details and current trail status are best confirmed with local outfitters or the DEC Ray Brook office before planning a trip.
Rock Pond is a 40-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of the many mid-sized waters in the working forest west of the High Peaks corridor. No fish species data on record, which usually means either minimal stocking history or simply under-reported angling; the pond sits in a landscape of private timberland and conservation easement, so access details vary by landowner and season. The name suggests the obvious — expect bedrock shoreline, likely shallow with mixed depths over glacial till. Check current access status with the DEC or local outfitters before planning a trip.
Rock Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sits tucked in second-growth forest off a logging road or seasonal access track, rather than on any maintained trail system. No fish stocking records and no nearby peaks means this is working forest land, not High Peaks corridor: the kind of water that shows up on a DeLorme but not in a hiking guide. If you're looking for it, you're either hunting, surveying timber, or chasing the satisfaction of visiting every named water in the Park. Bring a compass and the correct quad map.
Rollins Pond anchors the Rollins Pond State Campground off NY-30 south of Tupper Lake — a family-friendly, drive-up base with 287 campsites, a sandy swim beach, and a boat launch that puts canoes and kayaks on 286 acres of flatwater ringed by mixed hardwoods and pine. The pond connects to Fish Creek Ponds via navigable channels, opening up miles of paddling without portages — part of the larger Fish Creek / Rollins network that defines the area's appeal for flatwater touring. No dramatic peaks or backcountry isolation, but the infrastructure is solid: flush toilets, hot showers, and enough elbow room that mid-July doesn't feel claustrophobic. Launch by 7 a.m. in September and you'll have the lily pads and the loons to yourself.
Round Pond is a 22-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that you won't share it with jet skis or bass boats. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either unstocked or lightly surveyed brook trout habitat; bring a rod and keep expectations modest. The pond sits in working forest country, where access roads shift with logging cycles and the best route in is usually confirmed by local outfitters or the DEC Ray Brook office before you load the canoe. If you're camping nearby, it's a quiet exploratory paddle — not a destination water, but a reliable blank spot on the map.
Round Pond is a 10-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to feel private, large enough to hold a canoe trip worth making. No public fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or none at all; local knowledge will tell you more than the DEC database. The pond sits in working forest land where access and ownership can shift — check current maps and postings before heading in. If you're fishing the Tupper Lake area and looking for something quieter than the main lakes, this is the kind of water worth a conversation at a local fly shop.
Round Pond is a three-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely doesn't register on most trail maps, and without fish stocking records or designated access, it sits in that liminal category of named waters that exist more on paper than in practice. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake area are often old beaver work or kettle depressions left by glacial melt, ringed by black spruce and tamarack, accessible only by bushwhack or private land. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and ownership first — the Tupper Lake Wild Forest has plenty of legitimate destinations, and a three-acre pond without a trail is usually three acres for a reason.
