Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Aluminum Pond is a 9-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddling itineraries, tucked into the wooded backcountry where the state land holdings fracture into a patchwork of private inholdings and old logging corridors. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked stillwater or a pond that hasn't been surveyed in decades — common for the smaller named waters in this part of the Park. Access details are sparse; if you're headed in, confirm current trail conditions and land status with the local DEC ranger or outfitter in Raquette Lake village before you bushwhack.
Bassout Pond is a 25-acre water tucked into the Raquette Lake township — off the main lake circuits and far enough from the trailhead networks that it holds its quiet. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means either private inholdings complicate access or it's simply too small and shallow to warrant stocking surveys. The name suggests old logging-era geography — "bassout" as corruption or mispronunciation, common in ponds named by surveyors or timber crews who moved through faster than they mapped. If you know how to reach it, it's yours; if you don't, start with the Raquette Lake town office or a USGS quad.
Bear Pond is a 28-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel like more than a stopping point. The pond sits in the network of lakes and channels that make the Raquette drainage a classic canoe-camping zone, though Bear itself sees less traffic than the headline waters nearby. No fish species data on record, which either means it's been overlooked by DEC survey crews or it's one of those ponds where the habitat doesn't hold much past early spring. Access is by paddle route; check the Raquette Lake launch points and plan your connections accordingly.
Bear Pond is a small six-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of named ponds scattered through the woods south and west of the main lake basin. No fish data on record, no trailhead in the immediate radius, and likely accessed by bushwhack or private inholding rather than marked trail. The name shows up on DEC and USGS maps but not in the recreational literature, which usually means either low-access or low-interest water hemmed in by wetland or blowdown. If you're serious about finding it, start with the quad map and a compass — this is scout-and-report territory, not a weekend stroll.
Beaverdam Pond sits west of Raquette Lake village in a quiet pocket of the Raquette Lake Wild Forest — 48 acres of shallow water with the kind of name that tells you what shaped it. Access is by water from Raquette Lake itself or from the network of logging roads and informal paths that thread through the area; this isn't a trailhead-and-sign destination, and local knowledge or a good topo map will save you time. The pond sees more use from anglers launching from Raquette than from foot traffic, and the shoreline holds the mix of alder, spruce, and blowdown common to beaver-maintained flowages. No fish data on file with DEC, but ponds like this in the Raquette drainage typically hold brook trout if they hold anything.
Big Deer Pond sits in the Raquette Lake wild forest — 57 acres, no formal fisheries data on record, and far enough off the main corridors that it doesn't show up on most weekend itineraries. Access details are thin, which usually means either unmaintained trail or private-land complications; confirm current status and landowner permission before heading in. The pond's name suggests historical hunting camps or deer-yarding habitat, common in this drainage between Raquette and Blue Mountain lakes. If you do get there, expect solitude — and bring a compass.
Big Five sits in the dense forest south of Raquette Lake village — a sixteen-acre pond with no formal public access and no fish stocking records in the DEC system. The name suggests either a surveyor's grid designation or an old hunting camp reference, but no historical marker survives in the record. Ponds this size in the Raquette drainage often hold wild brookies or perch that wandered in during high water, but without maintained trails or documented put-ins, Big Five stays off most paddlers' lists. Best known to locals with property access or hunters working the surrounding hardwood ridges in October.
Big Shallow sits in the Raquette Lake township — a nine-acre pond that delivers exactly what the name promises. No formal trail system, no DEC campsite inventory, no fish stocking records in the regional database. This is beaver-dam water in the mid-Adirondacks: flooded hardwood stands, shallow basin, the kind of place you find by studying the topo and bushwhacking in from a fire road or seasonal camp access. If you're after solitude and don't mind wet feet, Big Shallow qualifies — but leave the fly rod at home.
Buck Pond is a 10-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational fishing or paddling lists, and remote enough that access details stay local. No fish species on state record, which usually means either limited stocking history or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer. The name suggests old hunting camp or timber-era usage, common in this part of the park where ponds were named for function rather than scenic value. If you're heading out, confirm access and ownership with the local DEC office — many small ponds in this drainage sit on mixed public-private land.
Buck Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — part of the broader constellation of ponds and wetlands that define the central Adirondacks' working forest landscape. No fish data on file, which usually means either unstocked headwater habitat or a seasonal wetland that doesn't hold trout through summer drawdown. The name suggests old hunting camp territory, and the acreage puts it in that useful middle ground: too small for most paddlers to seek out on purpose, but exactly the kind of water you stumble into when you're bushwhacking between better-known destinations or poking around old logging roads south of the Blue Line highway corridors.
Carry Pond is a seven-acre water in the Raquette Lake drainage — the kind of small, off-trail pond that holds brook trout or holds nothing, depending on the decade and the beaver activity. The name suggests portage history, likely a link in an old canoe route before the roads came through, but today it sits quiet in second-growth hardwoods with no formal access or maintained trail. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked or too shallow to winter over a trout population. If you know where it is, you already know why you're going.
Cellar Pond is a 3-acre pocket in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. No fish data on record, which usually means either it winters out hard or nobody's bothered to stock it in recent memory. The name suggests old logging or settlement history — cellar holes and stone foundations are common throughout this part of the central Adirondacks, remnants of 19th-century clearing that's since grown back to second-growth hardwood. Worth investigating if you're already deep in the Raquette Lake backcountry and collecting small waters; otherwise, this one stays quiet by design.
Chain Ponds sits in the Raquette Lake Wild Forest — 23 acres split across multiple basins in dense second-growth forest south of the main lake. Access is bushwhack or by paddling up one of the inlet streams during high water, which makes this more of a local secret than a trailhead destination. No fish stocking records and no maintained campsites, so it's mostly left to hunters glassing for deer sign in October and the occasional canoeist looking for absolute solitude. Bring a compass and a good topo — the ponds don't announce themselves from the water.
Clear Pond is an 18-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to feel remote, large enough to hold a shoreline worth exploring by canoe or kayak. No formal fish survey data on record, which usually means either native brook trout in low numbers or nothing at all; local knowledge and a few casts with a fly rod will settle the question. The pond sits within the web of old roads, drainage routes, and connector trails that knit together the Raquette Lake backcountry — not a destination water, but a solid option if you're already in the area and looking for quiet water away from the bigger lakes. Expect blow-down on unmarked approaches and no maintained facilities.
Clear Pond is a 74-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — mid-sized for the region, tucked into the working forest south of the main Raquette Lake basin. No public access data or fish stocking records on file, which usually means private inholdings or land-locked state parcels awaiting easement or trail development. The name shows up on USGS quads and DEC wetland maps but not in the standard paddling guides — a placeholder for now. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry and see a footpath, check the DEC unit management plan or call the Inlet ranger station before assuming it's open water.
Constable Pond is a 50-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — part of the quiet, less-trafficked network of ponds and forest between the Blue Ridge Road corridor and the Fulton Chain. No fish data on record, which usually means minimal stocking history and light angling pressure, though wild brookies turn up in these back-country ponds often enough to keep a rod in the canoe. Access specifics vary across this zone — some waters require a paddle-in from a larger lake, others sit at the end of unmarked woods roads or old logging trails that may or may not appear on current maps. Worth confirming access and ownership status before planning a trip.
Covey Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either it winters out or nobody's bothered to stock it. The name suggests old hunting camp ties, common in this part of the park where private inholdings and club lands still shape the landscape. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake drainage and stumble on it, you're either lost or you know exactly what you're doing.
Cracker Pond is a 24-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — remote enough that fishing and access records are thin, which usually means either private holdings nearby or a bushwhack-only approach through working forest. The name suggests old logger camps or a trapper's cabin, the kind of backcountry nomenclature that predates the Blue Line by decades. No formal trail appears on current DEC maps, and no stocking or survey data on file. If you're sorting through a USGS quad looking for untracked water in the Raquette drainage, Cracker Pond is the kind of dot that rewards a satellite pass and a conversation with a local before you commit the afternoon.
Cranberry Pond is a 28-acre pond in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to hold a quiet morning paddle, large enough to feel removed once you're on the water. The name suggests the shoreline character you'd expect: boggy edges, conifer fringe, the kind of water that holds its own temperature well into June. No fish species data on file, which typically means either natural fishless conditions or simply under-documented — common for ponds off the main paddling corridors in this part of the Park. Worth checking local access and parking before you go; not all ponds in the Raquette drainage have formal DEC trailheads or maintained put-ins.
Deer Pond is a 49-acre body of water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of mid-sized ponds scattered across the working forest and private holdings south and west of the main Raquette Lake basin. No public access data or fishery records in the state system, which typically means either private ownership or landlocked position within a larger timber tract. The name appears on USGS quads but not in DEC access guides — common for waters that predate the Forest Preserve but never connected to public trail networks. If you're researching it for paddling or fishing, start with the town assessor's office or a call to the local DEC ranger.
Deer Pond is a 21-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the working forest and private holdings south and west of the main lake. No public access information on file, and no fish stocking or survey records in the DEC database, which typically means either private shoreline or a put-in so obscure it doesn't warrant maintenance. The name shows up on the USGS quad but not in most paddling guides — a bench player in a region dense with better-documented options. If you're poking around the Raquette drainage with a topo map and a hunch, it's there; otherwise, stick to the named routes.
East Pond is a 62-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — part of the sprawling network of ponds, wetlands, and wooded shoreline that defines the central Adirondacks west of Blue Mountain Lake. The pond sits in low-relief forest country, the kind of backcountry where paddling and portaging matter more than peak-bagging, and where loons and beaver are more common than trail registers. No fish species data on record, which often signals either light angling pressure or catch-and-release brookies that slip under DEC survey nets. Access details are sparse — check the latest DEC paddling maps or ask at the Raquette Lake Supply for current portage routes and put-in logistics.
East Pond is a 24-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the working forest and private holdings west of the Blue Line's densest public land. No fish data on file, no marked trailhead in the DEC inventory, no lean-to — which usually means private inholding, gated logging road, or both. The name appears on the USGS quad but not in the DEC's stocked-waters list or the designated campsite registry. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and ownership before you bushwhack.
Falls Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — 38 acres tucked into the working forest between the Blue Mountain Wild Forest and private timber parcels west of the main lake. Access details are sparse: no marked DEC trails lead directly to the shoreline, and the pond doesn't appear on the standard paddling circuits that draw crowds to Raquette Lake proper or the Forked Lake / Long Pond chain to the north. The name suggests a stream inlet or outlet with some gradient, but without maintained routes or documented fishery data, this one stays quiet by default. If you're poking around the back roads near Raquette Lake village with a topo map and patience, Falls Pond is the kind of place you find rather than plan for.
Fly Ponds — a 24-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — sits in the kind of mid-elevation terrain where the forest opens up just enough to let light hit the water but not enough to pull crowds. No fish data on record, which typically means either low pH, shallow depth, or simple absence from DEC stocking routes; worth a cast if you're already back there, but not a destination for anglers. The name suggests historical beaver activity or the presence of seasonal hatches that once made it notable to someone with a fly rod. Access and trail details are sparse — if you know the water, you likely came in from one of the Raquette Lake area trailheads or by bushwhack.
Fox Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps and remote enough that it sits well off the standard lake-to-lake paddling routes that define this region. No public access points documented, no fish stocking records on file, no formal trails leading in. It's the kind of water that exists primarily as a dot on the USGS quad and a footnote in the state's gazetteer — known to the adjacent landowners, invisible to most everyone else.
Frank Pond is a 27-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — part of the dense constellation of small ponds and wetlands that defines the western High Peaks transition zone. No formal fish survey data on record, which often means native brook trout or none at all; access is likely via unmaintained woods roads or bushwhack from the Raquette Lake area trail network. The pond sits in working forest land where property lines and public access shift over time — worth confirming access status with the DEC or local outfitters before committing to a trip. Small, quiet, and off the grid in the way that defines half the named waters in this part of the Park.
Gal Pond is a 13-acre backcountry water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that most visitors to the region never hear the name. Access typically requires either a bushwhack or a boat-in from one of the larger Raquette Lake chain waters, depending on which drainage you approach from — this is not a roadside stop. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or nothing at all. The kind of pond that rewards paddlers willing to carry a canoe past the obvious destinations.
Grass Pond is a 21-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to paddle without running out of shoreline in ten minutes. No fish data on record, which usually means light pressure and a pond that skews more toward quiet-water paddling or wildlife watching than angling destinations. The name suggests the obvious: expect emergent vegetation along the margins, likely pickleweed or wild rice stands by midsummer, and the kind of bug hatch that brings wood ducks and herons in early morning. Access details are sparse, so contact the local DEC office or check the latest edition of the *Adirondack Paddler's Map* before committing to a trip.
Grassy Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — 43 acres tucked into the working forestland south and west of the main lake basin, part of the patchwork of private timberland, hunting camps, and state easement parcels that defines this stretch of the central Adirondacks. Access here typically depends on landownership and seasonal roads; this isn't front-country paddling like the Blue Mountain Lake chain, and it's not the backcountry stillwater of the Five Ponds either — it's middle-distance water in a region where the line between public and private shifts with every parcel sale. No fish data on file, which usually means it's been off the DEC stocking rotation for decades, if it was ever on it.
Gull Lakes — plural, though the name reads singular on most maps — sits in the Raquette Lake Wild Forest, a pair of connected ponds tucked into working forest land southwest of the main Raquette basin. Access is unmaintained or private-land-adjacent; this is not a trailhead-and-signpost destination, and most paddlers who know it reach it by old logging roads or by poking around the upper tributaries during high water. No fish data on file with DEC, no designated campsites, no foot traffic to speak of — which makes it exactly the kind of water that gets claimed by hunters in October and left alone the rest of the year.
Gull Lakes — a pair of connected ponds tucked into the forest northwest of Raquette Lake proper — sit off the main boating and paddling circuits, more remote by feel than by actual distance. Access is by bushwhack or unmarked woods roads; this isn't a trailhead-and-sign destination, and the ponds see more use from hunters in fall than paddlers in summer. The water is tannic, shallow in places, ringed by mixed hardwoods and lowland conifers — classic Adirondack backcountry but without the draw of a named peak or a stocked fishery. If you're already camping on Raquette Lake and want a quiet explore with a topo map, Gull Lakes deliver solitude by default.
Hardigan Pond is a 31-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — part of the sprawling network of ponds and wetlands west of the main lake itself. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either native brook trout in low numbers or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter drawdown. Access details are sparse in the standard trail databases, suggesting either private inholdings along the shore or a bushwhack approach through state land — worth confirming ownership and access with the local DEC ranger before planning a trip. If you're poking around this drainage, bring a map: the Raquette Lake quad is dense with unmarked ponds and old logging roads that don't always appear on phone screens.
Haymarsh Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and isolated enough that casual paddlers won't stumble onto it from the main lake corridors. The name suggests beaver activity or wetland margins, and ponds this size in the Raquette drainage typically hold brook trout if they hold fish at all, though no species data is on file. Access details are scarce, which usually means either private land or a bushwhack approach through mixed hardwood and spruce lowlands. Worth investigating if you're already in the area with a topo map and patience for light exploration.
Haymarsh Ponds — a 15-acre cluster in the Raquette Lake township — sits far enough off the main travel corridors that it draws almost no casual traffic and holds almost no fisheries data in the DEC records. The name suggests wetland margins and shallow bays, the kind of water that warms early in spring and holds pickerweed by midsummer. Without established trail access or nearby trailhead infrastructure, this is a water for paddlers willing to route in from larger systems or bushwhack from private-road edges — local knowledge required. No fish species on file, which usually means either unstocked and unsurveyed, or too shallow and weedy to winter over anything but sunfish.
Helldiver Pond is a 15-acre water tucked into the Raquette Lake township — remote enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational fishing reports, and small enough that it likely holds brook trout if it holds anything at all. The name suggests either old hunting-camp lore or a nod to the diving ducks that work these smaller ponds during migration, though no one seems to have written the story down. Access details are scarce in the DEC records, which usually means either private land complications or a bushwhack approach from a larger trail system in the area. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry and stumble across it, you've earned it.
Hess Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that most paddlers miss it entirely, tucked into the drainage maze south of the main lake basin. No fish data on record, no formal trails marked on the quad, no lean-tos flagged in the DEC inventory — which means it's either a bushwhack destination for someone with a GPS track and a tolerance for blowdown, or it's a seasonal wetland that barely holds water past June. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry with a topo map and time to spare, it's the kind of dot that raises the question: *is there even open water when you get there?*
High Pond is a 9-acre water tucked into the Raquette Lake township — far enough off the main corridor that it doesn't show up on most recreational checklists. No fish data on record, no DEC-maintained access trail, no lean-to — which typically means it's either a beaver-dammed remnant on private land or a seasonal flow-through pond that dries to mud by late summer. The name survives on the USGS quad, but in practice this one's more map artifact than destination. If you're poking around the Raquette drainage with a topo and a compass, you might stumble across it — otherwise, there are fifty better ponds within ten miles.
High Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 48-acre water in the rolling country west of the main lake, far enough off the beaten path that it doesn't show up on most paddlers' radar. No fish species on record, no maintained trail markers in the DEC database, and no nearby High Peaks to anchor a day-hike loop — this is backcountry by virtue of distance and low visitation rather than terrain. The pond likely sees more moose than anglers. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake wild forest and looking for a quiet bushwhack objective, High Pond rewards the effort with solitude.
Hitchins Pond is a two-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it lives in the gaps between the named trailheads and the paddling routes that define the region. No fish survey data on file with DEC, which for a pond this size usually means limited depth, soft bottom, possible winter kill, or simply that no one has bothered to document what swims there. It's the kind of water that shows up on the quad map but not in the guidebooks — worth knowing if you're studying the drainage between bigger lakes or piecing together a bushwhack route, but not a destination on its own. If you're in the area and have local beta, it's worth a look; otherwise, this one stays quiet by default.
Home Pond is a 9-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational radar, set back from the main lake corridor where most of the region's traffic concentrates. No fish species data on file, no formal trails indexed to it, and no nearby peaks to anchor it in a day-hiking loop — the kind of water that exists primarily as a map name and a dot in the forest. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry by canoe or bushwhack, it's worth a GPS waypoint; otherwise, it stays quiet by default.
Hyde Pond is a 14-acre pond in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it doesn't anchor its own trail system, quiet enough that it rarely shows up in trip reports. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means wild brookies or nothing at all, and either outcome fits the character of these back-basin ponds south of the Raquette corridor. Access details are sparse in the DEC records, suggesting either private inholdings along the shore or a bushwhack entry from one of the larger lake systems nearby. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake region with a topo map and a afternoon to kill, this is the kind of water worth investigating — but call the Ray Brook DEC office first to confirm access and avoid a wasted hike.
Icehouse Pond sits just off NY-28 west of Raquette Lake village — eight acres of shallow water tucked into second-growth forest along the highway corridor. The name suggests a historical ice-cutting operation, likely serving one of the Great Camps or hotels that defined the Raquette Lake tourism economy in the late 1800s, though no structures remain visible from the road. No fish data on record, no formal trail access, and no nearby peaks — this is a roadside pond that serves more as a historical footnote than a paddling or fishing destination. If you're driving the southern Adirondack loop between Inlet and Blue Mountain Lake, it's the kind of water you pass without stopping.
Jack Pond is a seven-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational radar, which also means it rarely appears in the DEC's stocking or survey records. No species data on file, no established access trail in the standard databases, no lean-to or campsite designation. Ponds like this exist in the gaps between the documented network: known to local landowners, trappers, and the occasional bushwhacker, but functionally off-grid for the rest of us. If you're headed in, confirm access and ownership before you go — many small ponds in this area sit on private inholdings or require permission.
Jenkins Pond is a 2-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it likely sits tucked in the forest between larger named waters or along a seasonal drainage, the kind of pond that appears on topographic maps but rarely in trip reports. No fish species data on record suggests either marginal habitat or simply that no one's bothered to document what swims there; beaver activity and seasonal depth shifts are the usual culprits in ponds this size. Without maintained trail access or established campsites, Jenkins Pond reads as a bushwhack destination or a local landmark — worth noting on a map, but not a place you'd paddle to on purpose unless you already know why you're going.
Jimmy Pond is a one-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it likely sits tucked in second-growth forest between larger named lakes, the kind of place you'd find on a bushwhack or a forgotten woods road rather than a marked trail. No fish data on record, which at this size suggests either marginal depth for winter survival or simply that it's never been surveyed — common for ponds under five acres in the central Adirondacks. In this part of the park, water this small often serves as a navigation landmark for hunters, trappers, and the occasional through-paddler linking bigger systems. If you're looking for it, start with the USGS quad and a compass bearing.
Lilypad Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 40-acre pocket water whose name telegraphs the shoreline conditions by midsummer. No fish data on record, which typically means it's either too shallow, too weedy, or too acidic to support a standing population, though beaver activity can change that equation season to season. The pond is part of the broader Raquette Lake drainage, where dozens of small ponds and wetlands feed the lake system through a network of low-gradient streams and seasonal channels. Access details are sparse — if you're headed in, expect bushwhacking or a paddle-in approach from connected water.
Lilypad Ponds sits in the Raquette Lake wild forest — 23 acres split across multiple small basins, connected by shallow channels and doing exactly what the name suggests by mid-July. Access is rough: no maintained trail, no DEC signage, and the approach involves either a long paddle from Raquette Lake proper or a bushwhack from the nearest logging road. No fish data on record, which usually means limited access has kept it off the stocking rotation — though brookies sometimes work their way into these backwater systems on their own. This is a pond for the paddler who likes a map, a compass, and no company.
Lilypad Ponds is a two-acre water tucked somewhere in the Raquette Lake township — the kind of small pond that shows up on a topo map but rarely gets a trail sign or a mention in guidebooks. The name suggests a shallow basin with emergent vegetation, likely beaver-maintained, and the modest acreage means it's more backcountry detour than destination. No fish species data on record, which typically indicates limited public access or minimal angling pressure — or both. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake drainage on foot, it's worth a compass bearing; otherwise, this one stays quiet.
Little Chief Pond is a six-acre water tucked somewhere in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it rarely pulls focus from the bigger names in the area, and remote enough that it doesn't show up on the standard paddling or fishing circuits. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either unstocked, prone to winterkill, or simply hasn't been surveyed in decades. The name suggests old mapping convention or a long-gone local reference, but the pond itself stays quiet — the kind of water you'd stumble across on a bushwhack or find noted in the margins of a vintage USGS quad. Worth confirming access and ownership before planning a visit.
Little Duck Pond is a two-acre pocket tucked into the sprawl of forest east of Raquette Lake — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and quiet enough that it holds that status by design. No formal access, no stocked fish, no DEC campsites — this is the kind of water you find by accident or by studying the blue splotches on a topo map and wondering what's out there. It's the Raquette Lake region in miniature: thousands of acres of working forest, private inholdings, and unmapped ponds that predate the trail system by a century. If you're looking for Little Duck, you're probably already lost — or exactly where you want to be.
Little Five sits north of Raquette Lake proper in a cluster of small ponds and wetlands—part of the braided waterway network that makes the Raquette drainage more maze than map. At five acres it's barely large enough to paddle across, and access means either a long bushwhack or threading through neighboring ponds by canoe if water levels cooperate. No fish records on file, no maintained trails, no reason to go unless you're the type who catalogs every named water or you're exploring the backcountry by boat with time to spare. The kind of pond that stays quiet because it requires effort with no particular reward at the end.
Little High Pond is a 14-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up in conversation but big enough to hold your attention if you're the type who measures a good day by how few people you see. No fish data on record, which means either it's not stocked and doesn't hold wild populations, or it's simply too out-of-the-way for DEC survey work to prioritize. The name suggests elevation, and in this part of the Park that usually means either a ridge-top kettle pond or a glacial scoop above a larger drainage. Expect bushwhack or unmaintained trail access — this is Raquette Lake backcountry, not a trailhead-and-mileage kind of place.
Little Lilly Pad Pond is an 18-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold its own quiet. The name suggests what you'd expect: lily pads in the shallows, probably beaver activity, the kind of pond that stays off most hiking itineraries but rewards anyone who finds it. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked and unfished or too shallow and weedy to hold trout through summer. Access and ownership details aren't well documented — worth checking current DEC records or a local outfitter before planning a visit.
Little Otter Pond is a nine-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational lake surveys and isolated enough that access details are scarce in the public record. The name suggests proximity to the Otter Brook drainage system that feeds into Raquette Lake proper, but without maintained trail or boat access documented, this one likely stays quiet by default. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either it's been unstocked long enough that records lapsed or it's shallow enough that winterkill keeps populations inconsistent. Worth asking locals in Raquette Lake village if you're hunting for a bushwhack objective.
Little Rock Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 75-acre water in a region thick with named ponds, where the real estate is more likely to be private camps than public shoreline. The pond name shows up on the DEC inventory but not in the lean-to-and-trailhead literature, which typically means limited or informal access and a local-knowledge situation rather than a marked trailhead off a numbered route. In this part of the Adirondacks, water access often runs through the hamlet of Raquette Lake itself or requires a paddle-in from one of the bigger connected waters. No fish data on file with DEC — a gap that tends to track with limited angler traffic or catch-and-release brookies too small to bother reporting.
Little Shallow sits in the Raquette Lake township — seven acres, no fish stocking records, and a name that tells you exactly what you're getting. The pond is one of dozens of small, unmapped waters scattered through the working forest between the Blue Mountain Wild Forest and the old Raquette Lake Railway corridor, more likely reached by hunters during deer season than by summer paddlers. No maintained trail, no DEC campsite, no reason to seek it out unless you're already deep in the woods with a GPS track and a curiosity for off-list water. If you're looking for a destination pond in the Raquette Lake area, stick to the named chain lakes or the Blue Mountain Lake access points.
Lone Duck Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull recreational traffic, but named and mapped, which means it exists in the local geography as a known thing rather than a nameless wetland. No fish data on file, and at four acres it's more likely a seasonal brook trout holdover than a stocked destination. The name suggests either a lone-duck sighting that stuck in someone's memory, or the dry Adirondack humor that names half the ponds in the Park. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry and you find it, you've earned it.
Lone Pond is a 4-acre pocket tucked somewhere in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it likely doesn't pull crowds, remote enough that it hasn't made it onto the standard fishing survey rotations. The name suggests isolation, and in the Raquette drainage that usually means old logging roads, blown-down blowdown, and a put-in that requires either a good map or a willingness to bushwhack. No fish species on record means either it doesn't hold fish or no one's reported catching them — both common in the smaller, shallower ponds that dot the interior. If you're heading that way, bring a topo and plan for solitude.
Lost Pond — seven acres, tucked into the working forest west of Raquette Lake village — carries the kind of name that usually means "road access but nobody bothers." No fish data on file, no formal trail marked on the DEC quad, which suggests either true backlot status or a pond that gets its visitors from the old logging road network rather than the trailhead parking lots. The Raquette Lake region is laced with ponds like this: small, unnamed on most maps until recently, better known by the families who've been launching canoes there since the 1960s than by the hiking public. If you're asking about Lost Pond, you probably already know how to get there.
