Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Schofield Pond is a 10-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to fish from shore if you can reach it, big enough to hold interest if the access is decent. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either unstocked and undersampled or too shallow to winter over anything but stunted brook trout. The Paradox Lake area runs quieter than the lake-district traffic to the north — more working forest, fewer trailhead signs, and ponds that show up on the DEC map but not always in the guidebooks. Worth a look if you're already in the area and inclined to explore off-list.
Smith Pond is a five-acre puddle in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely doesn't hold fish and remote enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational radars. Waters this size in the eastern Adirondacks are typically wetland-edge ponds with shallow profiles, more habitat than destination, though they can be worth a look for paddlers working the Schroon Lake Wild Forest drainage or anyone poking around the back roads between Paradox and Schroon. Without documented access or species data, this is strictly a map dot — interesting mostly for collectors who track every named water in the Park.
Snake Pond is a one-acre pocket of water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely doesn't hold fish year-round, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. The name suggests either topography (a sinuous shoreline or inlet) or an old trapper's encounter, but no historical record survives in the standard references. Ponds this size in the eastern Adirondacks are often seasonal snowmelt collectors or the remnant of beaver work from decades past. Without trail access or fish population data, this is a map dot — not a destination.
Snake Pond is a four-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely sits off-trail or requires local knowledge to reach, and remote enough that no fish data has made it into DEC records. Ponds of this size in the eastern Adirondacks often serve as bushwhack destinations or hunting-season waypoints rather than angling targets, and Snake fits that profile. Without maintained access or stocking history, this is a pond for map-and-compass navigators more than day-trippers. If you're headed in, confirm access and ownership before you go — many small waters in this region sit on mixed public and private land.
Springhill Ponds — three acres total, likely spread across multiple small basins given the plural name — sits in the Paradox Lake region, where the eastern Adirondacks flatten into farmland and low hills. No fish data on file, which usually means minimal stocking history and limited angling pressure; these small satellite ponds tend to hold brook trout only if they're spring-fed and cold enough through summer. Access details are sparse, but the Paradox Lake region runs toward private land and seasonal camps — confirm public access before heading in.
Springhill Ponds is a 3-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — the kind of small pond that doesn't draw a crowd because it doesn't advertise itself. No fish stocking records on file, no designated campsites, no trailhead kiosk — which means it's either a local secret with walk-in access or private property with limited public approach. The Paradox Lake corridor runs quieter than the Lake George or Schroon Lake zones to the south, and waters this size typically serve as beaver habitat, birding spots, or bushwhack destinations for paddlers working the drainage. If you're in the area, ask at the town clerk's office in Schroon Lake or check the DEC lands map before assuming access.
Springhill Ponds is a 30-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — low-profile enough that specific access and fishery data remain scarce in the public record. The name suggests old settlement-era geography (spring-fed headwaters, likely), and the Paradox Lake corridor has long been a mix of private inholdings and state land where trail access can be inconsistent or unmarked. Without confirmed DEC stocking records or a documented trailhead, this is the kind of pond that rewards local knowledge more than a GPS pin. If you're chasing it, start with the town clerk in Schroon or a topo map — and expect to ask questions at the nearest year-round address.
Springhill Ponds — two acres, tucked into the low country west of Paradox Lake — is one of those named waters that exists more on the DEC inventory than in common paddling conversation. No public access route appears on the standard trail maps, and the ponds sit on what reads as private or landlocked parcels in a region better known for Paradox Lake itself and the string of bigger waters along NY-74. If you're sorting through the region's options, this is a cartographic footnote rather than a destination — the kind of water that matters to the landowner and the beaver colony, but not much to anyone planning a weekend trip.
Springhill Ponds — a one-acre pocket of water in the Paradox Lake backcountry — sits far enough off the main travel corridors that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. The Paradox Lake region runs wild and low-trafficked compared to the High Peaks or even the eastern lake country, and waters this small typically serve as navigational markers for hunters and bushwhackers more than destination fisheries. No fish species data on record, which for a pond this size in this terrain usually means seasonal water levels, shallow basin, limited holdover habitat. If you're here, you're likely passing through on your way to something else — or you know exactly why you came.
Springhill Ponds is a six-acre water tucked into the Paradox Lake region — the kind of small pond that appears on the DEC quadrant maps but rarely makes it into guidebooks or trip reports. No fish stocking records, no designated trail infrastructure, no nearby named peaks — this is backcountry-lite in the eastern foothills, where the terrain flattens out and the ponds get overlooked in favor of the bigger named waters to the west. Access details are scarce; most visitors stumble onto it via bushwhack or old logging roads that may or may not still be passable. If you're looking for solitude and you know how to read a topo map, it's worth the effort.
