Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Hines Pond is a 19-acre water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddlers' radar, large enough to hold interest for an afternoon if you're looking for quiet water away from the reservoir's motorboat traffic. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked or not surveyed in recent years; worth a casting attempt if you're already there but don't plan a trip around it. Access details are thin — this is the kind of pond that either has a local dirt-road put-in or requires a bushwhack from a nearby trail system, and neither shows up in the standard DEC registers.
Moss Ponds — plural, though often mapped as singular — sits in the Hurricane Mountain Wild Forest northeast of Keene, tucked into a low drainage basin that doesn't show up on most recreation maps. The ponds are wetland-adjacent, shallow, and beaver-active — more of a bushwhack destination for anglers testing the viability of native brook trout populations than a swimming or paddling draw. Access is informal, likely via old logging roads or unmarked trails from nearby Hurricane Mountain Road or Crow Clearing Road, though the precise put-in isn't well-documented. No fish records on file, which usually means either unstocked or unreported — but 19 acres of quiet water in the Keene drainage often holds brookies if the inlet stays cold.
Spectacle Ponds — a 19-acre water in the Brant Lake region — sits in the middle tier of Adirondack waters that aren't entirely obscure but don't see the foot traffic of the High Peaks corridor or the boat traffic of the bigger lake towns. No fish species data on file, which typically means the pond either wasn't surveyed in recent DEC cycles or doesn't sustain a managed fishery — not uncommon for smaller headwater ponds in the southern and eastern zones. The name suggests a twin-lobed or figure-eight shoreline, a common Adirondack naming convention, though access and current usage details are thin. If you're heading in, bring a topo and confirm access routes locally — not every named water in the Park has a marked trail or public launch.
Mud Pond is a 19-acre pond in the Lake Placid region — one of several waters by that name in the Park, and a reminder that not every named water comes with a trailhead sign or a stocking report. The acreage suggests something more than a beaver flowage, but without recorded fish data or established access, it's likely a bushwhack destination or a pond visible from a longer route rather than a standalone trip. If you're chasing down every named water in the Adirondacks, this is the kind of entry that keeps the project honest. Check the DEC unit management plan or the 7.5' quad for the Lake Placid area to confirm location and approach before heading out.
Clear Pond is a 19-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of the many mid-sized ponds scattered across the southern Adirondacks that sits outside the heavily trafficked trail networks. No fish species data on record, which typically means either minimal stocking history or limited angler pressure to document what swims there. The pond's name shows up on USGS quads but not in the standard DEC access inventories, so getting there likely means private land negotiation or a bushwhack off a nearby logging road. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or local marinas if you're mapping overlooked paddles in the Blue Mountain Lake corridor.
Mud Pond is a 19-acre pond in the town of Keene — one of several Mud Ponds scattered across the Adirondacks, and typically the kind of water that stays off the summer crowds' radar by virtue of name alone. No fish species data on record, which usually means a shallow, weedy basin that winterkills or simply doesn't hold trout — the DEC stocks where there's habitat worth stocking. The pond sits in the Keene drainage, east of the High Peaks corridor, in territory that tends toward private land and working forests rather than marked trailheads and lean-tos. If you're heading to Keene for Giant, Hurricane, or the Johns Brook Valley, this one stays in the rearview.
Hedgehog Pond is a 19-acre water tucked into the working forest northwest of Tupper Lake — small enough to slip past most maps, large enough to hold a canoe for an afternoon. Access details are scarce in the public record, which usually means private inholdings or gated logging roads; worth a call to the local DEC office or a stop at a Tupper Lake outfitter before planning a trip. The pond sits in that zone where state land fragments into private timber tracts and hunting camps — not remote wilderness, but quiet country where you're more likely to see a beaver lodge than another paddler. No fish data on file, but ponds this size in this landscape typically hold brookies or perch if they hold anything at all.
Bear Pond is a 19-acre pond in the Paradox Lake region — a quieter corner of the eastern Adirondacks where state land intermingles with private parcels and the names on the map outnumber the boats on the water. No fish stocking records and no established trailhead signage, which usually means either private access or a bushwhack approach through second-growth forest. The pond sits in that middle zone: too small for motorized traffic, too obscure for the weekend paddling crowd, likely to stay empty even in July. If you're headed this way, confirm access and ownership before you go — the Paradox Lake Wild Forest doesn't publish maintained trails to every named water.
Fishpole Pond — 19 acres tucked in the Tupper Lake region — sits among the quieter, less-cataloged waters where the northwestern Adirondacks flatten into working forest and private timber tracts. No fish species data on file, which usually means either no recent DEC surveys or catch-and-release fishing pressure too light to warrant stocking records. Access details aren't widely published, so assume gated seasonal roads or private easements unless you've got a local contact or a DeLorme page with notes in the margin. The name suggests an old camp or a skinny shape — or both.
Lake Florence is a 19-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to feel contained, large enough to paddle without circling back every ten minutes. No fish data on record, which usually means it's either marginal habitat or simply unfished and unreported; either way, it's not a destination for anglers. The name suggests turn-of-the-century private holdings or early resort history, common in the Saranac Lake corridor where camps and cure cottages once dotted every accessible shoreline. Check local access — many of these smaller named ponds are either privately held or require permission from adjoining landowners.
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.
Black Pond is a 19-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to fish from shore, large enough to justify a canoe if you can get one in. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means wild brookies or nothing, and in ponds this size that usually depends on whether the inlet stream runs year-round. Access details are scarce in the public record, so if you're planning a trip, confirm the route with a local outfitter or the DEC Ray Brook office before you commit to the drive.
Middle Flow is a 19-acre pond in the Great Sacandaga Lake watershed — one of those small back-pocket waters that exists more as a local reference point than a destination. No public access data on file, no fish stocking records, no named trails leading in — which usually means either private shoreline or a bushwhack approach through lowland mixed forest. Waters like this tend to show up on survey maps and in the state's geographic inventory without much follow-through; if you're determined to fish it, expect to work for it. Check property lines before you go.
Botheration Flow — 19 acres tucked into the Indian Lake township — carries the kind of name that suggests either a surveyor's bad day or a local in-joke lost to time. No fish records on file, no nearby peaks to anchor a description, and no established trail intel in the current directory — which likely means private inholdings, difficult access, or both. Waters like this dot the deeper recesses of the park: known by name on the DEC inventory, visible on the topo, but functionally off the recreational grid. If you're determined to find it, start with the Indian Lake town clerk and a good relationship with a local who knows whose driveway not to block.
Blind Pond is a 19-acre water in the Tupper Lake township — small enough to slip past notice, remote enough that access details don't circulate widely, and unnamed on most recreational maps despite holding a place name in the DEC inventory. No fish survey data on record, which typically means either the pond doesn't hold fish naturally or it hasn't drawn enough angling pressure to warrant sampling. The name suggests either visual obscurity from surrounding terrain or historical logging-era usage — "blind" ponds often sat tucked behind ridgelines or timber operations. Worth noting only if you're cataloging every named water in the Park or hunting for genuine solitude within snowshoe range of Tupper Lake.
Massawepie Pond — 19 acres tucked into the Bog River / Limekiln Lake corner of the western Adirondacks — is a working pond in the old sense: it's part of a cluster of waters (Massawepie Lake to the north, the Bog River flow system to the east) that saw serious logging traffic in the early 20th century and still carries the scars and access traces of that era. The name is Abenaki — "place of much water" — and the pond itself sits in low, marshy country where wetland fingers connect one basin to the next. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked brookies or nothing at all. Access from the Old Forge / Thendara corridor runs through a maze of seasonal roads and private inholdings — confirm access and parking before committing to the drive.
Long Pond sits in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — 19 acres of quiet water in a zone better known for reservoir recreation and seasonal camps than backcountry solitude. No fish species on record, which usually means either private access or enough angling pressure that DEC sampling hasn't justified stocking. The pond's position in the southern Adirondacks puts it outside the High Peaks corridor — less dramatic relief, more mixed hardwood and wetland edges, and a landscape shaped as much by 20th-century flood control as by glacial drift. If you're here, you're likely a local or you've followed a trail less traveled.
West Vly sits in the southern Adirondack lowlands near the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — a 19-acre pond in an area where "vly" (the old Dutch term for wetland or marsh) shows up on half the water names within ten miles. The region runs more to bass, pike, and panfish than trout, but no fish survey data exists for West Vly specifically, and the name itself suggests marshy edges and shallow water. Access is unclear — likely private road or bushwhack — and the pond doesn't appear on the standard DEC paddling or fishing maps, which in this part of the Park usually means private shoreline or limited public interest. Worth a phone call to the nearest DEC office in Northville if you're serious about reaching it.
Muskrat Pond is an 18-acre water tucked into the Old Forge township — small enough to slip past most maps, large enough to hold its own character. No fish records on file, no maintained trail markers leading in, no DEC campsites flagged on the shore — which means it's either privately held, lightly documented, or both. The Old Forge area is dense with small ponds like this: some are legacy hunting-camp waters, some are remnants of the town-lot survey grid, and most reward the kind of local knowledge that doesn't make it into guidebooks. Worth asking at the town office or a local outfitter before bushwhacking in.
Mud Pond is an 18-acre water in the Old Forge area — a working name that shows up on the topo and likely sees more moose traffic than human traffic in a typical summer. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either native brookies that never got surveyed or a pond that doesn't hold oxygen through winter drawdown. Access details aren't documented in the standard trail inventories, so this is either private-access or bushwhack-only — worth a closer look at the DEC land classifications and a conversation with someone at the Old Forge visitor center before you plan a trip in. The Old Forge corridor has dozens of small ponds like this one: named, mapped, and mostly left alone.
Shingle Pond is an 18-acre water tucked into the working forest southwest of Tupper Lake — small enough that it doesn't pull a crowd, large enough that it holds its own quiet presence in the low country between the High Peaks and the St. Regis Canoe Area. No fish data on record, which usually means either it doesn't hold fish or no one's bothered to sample it in decades; either way, it's not a fishing destination. Access is likely gated logging road or private easement — check with the local DEC office in Ray Brook before making the drive.
Slush Pond is an 18-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to miss on most maps, quiet enough that it stays off most itineraries. The name suggests seasonal flooding or beaver influence, though whether it's active beaver water or just poorly drained lowland depends on the year and the dam integrity. No fish data on record, which often means either too shallow for consistent populations or just under-surveyed — worth a cast if you're passing through, but not a destination fishery. Access details are sparse; if you're looking for it, start with local knowledge at a Saranac Lake outfitter or the regional DEC office.
Grassy Pond is an 18-acre water in the Indian Lake region — small enough to stay off most through-hiking itineraries, quiet enough to hold that position. The name suggests marsh grass at the shoreline, shallow bays, and the kind of pond that warms early and holds pickerel if it holds fish at all. No species data on file with DEC, which usually means either private, lightly fished, or both. Worth checking local access and ownership before driving in with a canoe.
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.
Dug Mountain Ponds — a pair of small, remote ponds tucked into state land south of Speculator — sit far enough off the beaten path that they rarely appear in trip reports or fishing logs. The combined 18 acres suggest shallow water and soft shorelines, the kind of ponds that hold brook trout in a good year and go fishless in a dry one, though no species data exists on record. Access is almost certainly bushwhack or unmaintained trail; the name implies old logging or settlement history, but the ponds themselves remain quiet, overlooked, and largely undocumented. If you're after solitude and willing to navigate by topo map, this is the category of water that delivers.
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.
Willis Pond is an 18-acre water north of Tupper Lake village — small enough to miss on a regional map, large enough to hold a quiet afternoon if you're already in the area. No established access orfish stocking records in the state databases, which usually means either private shoreline or informal local use that hasn't made it into the DEC's managed inventory. Worth a closer look if you're working the back roads around Tupper — ponds this size sometimes hide a put-in or a forgotten trail, and sometimes they're just geography between here and there.
Rock Pond sits in the Old Forge corridor — a small, 18-acre water that holds its place in the dense cluster of ponds and streams threading through the western Adirondacks. No fish species data on record, which suggests either marginal habitat or simply a pond that doesn't pull angling pressure; either way, it's not a destination for a stringer. The Old Forge lake chain dominates access and attention in this area, so Rock Pond likely sees its visitors as spillover from paddlers working the interconnected routes or hikers cutting between better-known waters. Surface acreage puts it in the "find it on a topo map, bushwhack if curious" category — small enough to slip past casual notice.
Upper Feeder Pond is an 18-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — part of the drainage system that feeds south toward the lake itself. The name tells the story: this is working hydrology, not a destination pond, and it sits in quieter country east of the High Peaks corridor where the landscape flattens into mixed hardwood and the trail traffic thins out. No fish data on record, no maintained access that shows up on the standard DEC maps. If you're out here, you're likely threading your way through on a longer route or you've got a reason to be poking around the Paradox watershed — this isn't a trailhead-to-shoreline proposition.
Bullhead Pond is an 18-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of the smaller named ponds in a region dense with bigger destinations like Lewey Lake and Cedar River Flow. The pond sits in mixed hardwood cover west of the Cedar River corridor, far enough off the main recreation circuit that it holds onto solitude even during high season. No fish data on record, which typically signals either marginal habitat or a pond that doesn't get surveyed because anglers aren't asking about it. Access details are sparse — check with the Indian Lake town office or local outfitters if you're planning a bushwhack or paddle-in.
Mud Pond — one of dozens in the Adirondacks — sits in the Indian Lake township, an 18-acre water that hasn't made it onto the fishing reports or the trail blogs. No fish species data on file, no lean-tos flagged on the maps, no obvious trailhead pull-off that would mark it as a day-hike destination. These are the ponds that show up as blue spots on the DeLorme but stay quiet: locals who know the access keep it to themselves, and the rest of us drive past on our way to bigger water. If you're poking around the Indian Lake backcountry and come across it, you'll have it to yourself.
Bessie Pond is an 18-acre water tucked into the working forest west of Tupper Lake — small enough to paddle in an hour, remote enough that you won't share it with anyone on a Tuesday in June. No formal trail, no DEC campsite, no fish stocking records in the state database — this is more exploratory bushwhack than destination hike, the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map when you're plotting a longer route and makes you wonder if it's worth the detour. If you're camped at one of the nearby private sites or hunting camp access points and you've got a canoe, it's worth the look; otherwise, it stays quiet.
Babbe Pond is an 18-acre water in Keene — small enough to miss on most maps, quiet enough to stay that way. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system, no lean-tos — this is either private or effectively unmanaged, the kind of pond that shows up in property deeds and old survey maps but rarely in trip reports. If you're poking around the back roads between Keene Valley and the Ausable Club lands, you might catch a glimpse through the trees. For most paddlers and anglers, it's a name on a list and not much more.
Whortleberry Pond is an 18-acre water in the Indian Lake township — remote enough that it doesn't show up on the standard paddling circuits but accessible to anyone willing to work through the local road network and ask around. The name marks it as old Adirondack nomenclature (whortleberry being the colonial-era term for what we now call huckleberry or blueberry), which usually means it's been on the map since the tannery and logging era but never developed a recreational reputation. No fish stocking records on file, no established campsites, no trailhead signage — this is a pond you visit because you want to be the only boat on the water. Best confirmed with the Indian Lake town office or a local outfitter before committing to the drive.
Sucker Pond is an 18-acre quiet water tucked into the Old Forge township — small enough to paddle in an hour, large enough to feel remote once you're on it. The name suggests historic brook trout habitat (suckers often share water with native brookies in Adirondack ponds), though current stocking records are sparse and local knowledge runs thin. Old Forge sits at the southern door of the Fulton Chain lakes region, where most attention flows toward bigger water and summer crowds — which leaves ponds like this one to the locals and the curious. If you're looking for it, start with the town assessor's map and a conversation at the Old Forge Hardware.
Blueberry Pond is an 18-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to feel secluded, large enough to paddle without circling back in ten minutes. No fish records on file, which usually means it's either stocked inconsistently or fished lightly enough that DEC survey data hasn't caught up. The name suggests old berrying grounds along the shore or nearby ridges, a common enough pattern in ponds that sit off the main trail networks. Worth checking local access points in Saranac Lake or asking at a nearby outfitter — these mid-sized ponds often have informal carry-in routes that don't make it onto the trailhead signs.
Moxham Pond is an 18-acre water tucked into the woods near Schroon Lake — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough that it holds a quiet paddle if you can find access. No public boat launch or marked trailhead in the standard directories, which typically means private shoreline or a walk-in situation worth confirming with local beta before you load the canoe. The Schroon Lake region runs deep with these kind of ponds — close to the Northway corridor, lightly documented, and easy to drive past without ever knowing they're there. If you're poking around the area, talk to the folks at the town offices or the nearest DEC ranger; access intel for waters this size changes season to season.
Center Pond is an 18-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to stay off most fishing reports, large enough to hold a canoe loop worth paddling. No public fish stocking data on record, which usually means either unmaintained brook trout (if the water is cold and spring-fed) or a warm-water panfish pond that DEC hasn't surveyed in years. Access details are sparse in the standard trail guides, suggesting either private shoreline or a local-knowledge bushwhack — worth a stop at a Tupper Lake outfitter or the regional DEC office before you commit to a hike in.
Lake Eaton is an 18-acre pond in the Keene township — a small, low-profile water that doesn't appear on most hiking itineraries but sits quietly in the local rotation. No fish species on record, no major trailheads nearby, no camping infrastructure to speak of — this is the kind of pond that gets passed over in guidebooks but still holds appeal for paddlers looking to avoid the Route 73 corridor crowds. The name suggests some historical homestead or logging-era connection, but the details have faded into the backcountry record. Worth checking DEC or local sources for current access status before driving out.
Glidden Marsh sits in the Paradox Lake region — 18 acres of shallow wetland that functions more as wildlife habitat than paddling destination. The marsh is the kind of place that registers on topographic maps but rarely appears in trip reports: no designated access, no formal trails, and no fish stocking records to pull anglers off the nearby lakes. Beaver activity shapes the water levels season to season, and the edges are browsed hard by deer. If you're scanning a map for solitude in the Paradox corridor, this is the terrain that delivers it — but you'll be bushwhacking in, and the reward is observation, not recreation.
Indian Pond is a 17-acre water in the Brant Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to hold its own character. No fish species on record, which usually means either unmapped natural populations or quiet water that sees more canoe traffic than casting. The Brant Lake area sits in the southeastern Adirondacks where the terrain softens into rolling lake country rather than High Peaks drama — expect private shoreline mixed with older camps, less DEC signage, more local knowledge required. Worth confirming access with town or DEC records before planning a visit.
Baker Pond is a 17-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to stay off most radar, large enough to hold a canoe afternoon. No fish stocking data on record, which typically means it's either wild brook trout habitat or fishless depending on depth and inlet character. These mid-sized ponds in the Saranac Lake zone often sit on old private inholdings or see access via unmarked local roads rather than marked state trails — worth a stop at a local outfitter or the DEC Ray Brook office for current access intel.
Arquett Pond is a 17-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold a quiet morning if you can find it. No fish data on file, no marked trails in the public record, and no nearby peaks to anchor it on a hiking map — this is the kind of pond that shows up on a USGS quad and then waits to be rediscovered. Access likely involves bushwhacking or private land negotiations, which means it stays off the weekend circuit. If you know where it is, you know why you're there.
The Champlain Canal — not to be confused with Lake Champlain itself — is a 17-acre impoundment in the Lake George region, likely a widened or pooled section of the historic canal system that once connected the Hudson River to Lake Champlain. The canal operated as a commercial shipping route through the 19th and early 20th centuries, and remnants of locks, towpaths, and stone infrastructure still mark sections of the corridor. No fish species data on record, and the setting skews more industrial-historical than backcountry — this is canal water, not a forest pond. If you're tracing the old waterway or looking for a quiet paddle through a less-trafficked corner of the southern Adirondacks, it's worth a look for the engineering and the context.
Spectacle Ponds — a 17-acre water tucked into the eastern Lake George Wild Forest — sits far enough off the main corridor that it sees quiet mornings even in July. The name suggests twin ponds or maybe a figure-eight shoreline, but without maintained access or trail signage from DEC, most visitors arrive by bushwhack or old logging trace. No fish stocking records and no angler reports in the file, which either means the pond doesn't hold fish or nobody's bothered to document what's there. If you're hunting solitude in the Lake George region and don't mind working for it, this is the kind of water that rewards the effort.
Berry Pond is a 17-acre pocket of water in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it rarely shows up in conversation but large enough to hold a kayak for an afternoon. No fish stocking records and no developed access means this is a bushwhack or private-access situation, the kind of water that sits quietly between bigger destinations and gets visited mostly by people who already know it's there. If you're poking around the back roads east or west of the lake itself, Berry Pond is the sort of name you see on the DeLorme and file away for later — not a headline, but not nothing either.
Little Rainbow Pond is a 17-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to fish in an afternoon, big enough to paddle without circling back on yourself every ten minutes. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means wild brookies or nothing at all; local anglers will know which. The name suggests old logging-camp nomenclature or a long-forgotten trail convention — *Rainbow* ponds and lakes dot the Park, rarely for trout species, more often for the visual. Worth checking DEC atlases or the local ranger station for current access; ponds this size in this region are sometimes walk-in, sometimes old road, sometimes private-abutting-state with unclear entry points.
Crane Pond is a small 17-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC map but doesn't draw crowds or generate trailhead gossip. No fish species data on record, which typically means either unstocked and unfished or simply off the reporting grid; local knowledge would clarify. Access details aren't widely documented, but ponds of this size in this area are often reached by unmarked woods roads or private land — worth confirming ownership and access status before planning a trip. If you're hunting solitude and have a boat small enough to carry, this is the profile that sometimes delivers.
Woodbury Pond is a 17-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation lists, large enough that it holds water through dry summers and supports a quiet shoreline. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trail markers in the DEC database — the kind of pond that exists in the gap between official recreation sites and true bushwhack destinations. Access details are sparse, which usually means either private land complications or a local-knowledge approach from a nearby logging road. If you're heading out, confirm access and ownership before you go.
Newport Pond is a 17-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely sits tucked in the wooded low country east of the High Peaks, away from the trailhead traffic and the named summits. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either private shoreline or a pond that doesn't hold oxygen through winter — common in shallow Adirondack waters that freeze deep and turn over hard in spring. The Paradox Lake basin is a patchwork of private land and unposted forest, so access here depends on where the shoreline falls and whether there's a visible path in from a nearby road. Worth a map check and a polite knock if you're hunting quiet water in the area.
Lake Andrew is a 17-acre pond in the Long Lake town sprawl — one of the smaller named waters in a township defined by its namesake 14-mile lake and the string of ponds that connect it to the Raquette River corridor. No fish survey data on file with DEC, which usually means limited angler pressure and limited access, though the acreage suggests it's more than a beaver flow. Long Lake's quieter ponds tend to sit tucked behind private camps or require a put-in you need to know about; Lake Andrew fits that pattern. If you're poking around the back roads west of NY-30, it's worth a look — but confirm access before you haul a canoe.
Alligator Pond is a 17-acre water tucked into the southeastern Adirondacks near Brant Lake — small enough to fall off most recreation maps, large enough to hold its own shoreline character. The name suggests either frontier-era humor or a long-ago sighting that became local lore, but the pond itself is quiet, wooded, and typical of the low-elevation ponds that dot the hill country between Schroon Lake and Lake George. No fish data on record, which usually means either marginal habitat or a pond that hasn't seen a survey crew in decades. Worth a look if you're already in the Brant Lake area and collecting water names.
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.
Dug Mountain Ponds — a 17-acre pair of waters in the Speculator backcountry — sit off the typical paddling and hiking circuits, part of that broad stretch of working forest and private inholdings west of NY-30. No fish stocking records on file, no DEC campsite designations, no trailhead signage pointing the way — which means this one lives in that middle category of Adirondack water: accessible if you know where you're going, quiet because most people don't. The ponds drain northeast toward the Sacandaga drainage; the surrounding ridgelines are modest, forested, unnamed. If you're looking for solitude over scenery, and you've got a map, this is the template.
Echo Pond is a 17-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to hold no formal species data, which typically means it's either stocked inconsistently, fishes marginal habitat, or simply flies under the radar of DEC survey crews. The name suggests local use, but without documented access or nearby trail infrastructure in the curated system, this is likely a bushwhack or private-road approach rather than a trailhead destination. Worth a call to a Tupper Lake outfitter or the local DEC office if you're sorting through topo maps and looking for a quiet put-in. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake wild often fish better than their paperwork suggests.
Lake of the Sacred Heart is a 17-acre pond in the Lake George region — small enough to remain off most paddling itineraries, but named with the kind of gravity that suggests a chapel, a camp, or a private retreat somewhere in its history. No fish species on record, which typically means either limited access or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer drawdown. The Lake George wild forest sprawls across dozens of ponds in this drainage; this one sits far enough from the main lake to avoid the boat traffic but close enough to share the same Champlain lowlands character — warmer water, deciduous hardwoods, and the occasional view of the eastern escarpment. Worth confirming access and ownership before planning a visit.
Lost Pond lives up to its name — a 17-acre water tucked into the working forest west of Tupper Lake, off the radar of both the trail map and the stocking truck. No fish data on file, no marked trailhead, no lean-to — this is either a local spot accessed by private timber roads or a genuine bushwhack destination for someone with a topo map and a reason to be there. The name suggests it was named for being hard to find rather than for any geographic feature, which in the Tupper Lake wild lands is usually the truth. If you know how to get here, you already know what you're looking for.
Lily Pond is a 17-acre water tucked into the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough to stay off the radar of most summer traffic, but accessible enough to work as a quiet paddle or a family fishing attempt when you need an hour away from the village crowds. No fish data on record, which typically signals light stocking history or none at all; it's the kind of pond where you bring a kayak and low expectations, or you use it as a turnaround point on a longer hike. The Lake George region has dozens of named ponds like this — not destinations, but useful spaces between the bigger water and the backcountry. Check the DEC Wild Forest map for current trail access and parking coordinates.
East Pine Pond is a 17-acre kettle pond in the Old Forge web — one of the smaller named waters in a system where most paddlers are aiming for bigger pieces like Fourth Lake or the Fulton Chain. The pond sits in second-growth forest typical of the western Adirondacks: white pine, paper birch, and the occasional hemlock grove along the shoreline. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either native brook trout in low density or a pond that runs too warm and shallow by late summer. Access details are sparse — if you're targeting East Pine specifically, call the Old Forge visitor center or check the latest DEC access roster before driving out.
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.
