Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Metcalf Chain of Lakes sits in the low country south of Speculator — a small network of ponds that barely registers in the regional fishing reports but holds water quietly enough for anyone looking to paddle without a permit queue. The 14-acre designation likely refers to the largest pond in the chain; the actual complex spreads through mixed hardwood and wetland with limited shore access and minimal signage from nearby forest roads. This is the kind of water that gets fished by someone's cousin who knows where to park, not by guidebook traffic. No stocking records, no DEC campsite markers — just beaver work, shallow bays, and the occasional local who'd rather you didn't ask for directions.
Pink Pond is a 14-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to disappear on most maps, quiet enough to stay that way. No DEC fish survey data on record, which suggests either unstocked water or a pond that simply doesn't draw angling pressure. The name hints at iron tannins or glacial clay in the basin, though without a trail registry or marked access it's likely approached by bushwhack or private land. If you know the pond, you know how you got there.
Meadow Pond is a 14-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to hold no formal fish records and obscure enough that it doesn't appear on most hiking itineraries. The name suggests wetland margins and shallow water, the kind of pond that warms early in spring and draws moose, beaver, and the occasional paddler willing to portage through brush for solitude. Without designated access or nearby peaks to anchor it, Meadow Pond exists in that middle category of Adirondack waters: known by name, visited by few, left mostly to the animals. Check local DEC maps or ask at a Saranac Lake outfitter for current access routes — if the pond sees regular use, someone in town will know the approach.
Lake Frances is a 14-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to fish from shore in an afternoon, large enough to paddle without feeling landlocked. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either intermittent winter kill or a pond that's simply off the stocking rotation and under-surveyed. The name suggests private-land history (likely a landowner's family member), and many ponds in this size class near Saranac Lake sit on mixed public-private parcels — check local access before launching. Worth a call to the regional DEC office or a stop at a Saranac Lake fly shop for current conditions and clarity on where you can legally wet a line.
Frances Pond is a 14-acre pocket water in the Keene township — small, off-trail, and absent from most recreational databases. No fish surveys on record, no marked access, no adjacent trailheads pulling traffic from NY-73 or the Giant Wilderness corridor. It sits in that middle category of Adirondack waters: named, mapped, but functionally wild — the kind of place you bushwhack to with a topo and low expectations, or stumble onto while hunting the back ridges. If you're looking for solitude over infrastructure, Frances Pond delivers by default.
Otter Pond is a 14-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more use from locals who know the access than from through-traffic on the bigger destination waters nearby. No fish species data on file, which usually means either unstocked brookies or none at all; ponds this size in the area can go either way depending on winter oxygen and inlet flow. The name suggests historical beaver activity or trapping routes, though that's true of half the ponds in the Park. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious, but this isn't a water you'd plan a weekend around without scouting access first.
The Champlain Canal — not to be confused with the larger Lake Champlain navigation system — is a 14-acre landlocked water in the Lake George region, likely a remnant oxbow or old canal infrastructure that gave up its working life decades ago. No fish data on record, no established trails, no nearby peaks to anchor it in the hiking universe — this is backcountry water that exists on the DEC roster but not in the recreational conversation. It's the kind of place you'd stumble onto while bushwhacking between better-known destinations, or while tracing old topo lines on a winter map session. If you're looking for solitude and don't need a trailhead sign to validate the trip, start here.
Elbow Pond is a 14-acre water tucked into the working forest west of Tupper Lake — small enough that it doesn't draw a crowd, large enough that it holds its own character. No official fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies or nothing at all; worth a cast if you're already in the neighborhood. Access typically runs through private timberland or gated logging roads — check current public status with the local DEC office before heading in. The name suggests a bent shoreline or a crooked inlet, the kind of cartographic detail that only makes sense when you're standing at the water's edge.
Mountain Pond is a 14-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't appear on most regional shortlists, but that's often the point in a town where the larger lakes pull the weekend traffic. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either marginal habitat or simply under-surveyed; either way, it's not a destination for anglers. The pond sits in the working forest and recreation patchwork west of the core Wild Forest blocks, where access and use patterns vary widely depending on adjacent landowner agreements. If you're looking for it, confirm current public access and parking before you make the drive.
Pickerel Pond is a 14-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to slip off most maps, quiet enough to hold that status. The name suggests brook trout or chain pickerel at some point in its stocking history, but current fish data is thin; if you're coming for angling, call the local DEC office first. Waters this size in the Tupper corridor often sit on private land or see minimal management — access and conditions vary widely depending on which drainage you're in. Worth a look if you're already working the area, but confirm ownership and entry points before you load the canoe.
Buck Pond is a 14-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on conversation but documented enough to have a name and a shoreline. No fish data on file, no maintained trail markers in the immediate vicinity, no lean-tos or designated campsites that tie directly to the pond itself. It sits in that middle category of Adirondack ponds: neither a destination nor entirely off-grid, just a named piece of water in a forested township where most of the real estate is working timber or private hold. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake backcountry with a map and a full afternoon, it's there — but it won't be crowded.
Chaumont Pond is a 13-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to escape most attention, large enough to hold fish if they're there, though no species are on record with DEC surveys. The pond sits in working forest country where access typically means gated logging roads or private land, so confirming public entry before you bushwhack is the move. Waters this size in this part of the Park often connect to local knowledge more than trailhead signs — ask at bait shops or the ranger station in Tupper Lake if you're scouting it seriously. If it does have public shore access, it's the kind of spot where you'll have it to yourself on a Tuesday in June.
Duck Pond is a 13-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to be overlooked, but big enough to hold a canoe day if you find it. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack parlance usually means it's either too shallow for winter survival or too acidic for stocking, though local knowledge sometimes contradicts the official data. The name suggests old waterfowl hunting grounds or simply a pond where someone once shot a duck. Without public access details on file, this one stays in the "ask at the local shop" category.
Saint Germain Pond is a 13-acre water tucked into the broader Saranac Lake township — small enough to stay off most touring maps, large enough to hold a canoe for an afternoon. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means it's either too shallow, too acidic, or simply unstocked and unstudied. The name suggests French-Canadian settlement history, common to this corner of Franklin County, but the pond itself keeps a low profile — no marked trail infrastructure, no DEC campsite designation. If you're looking for it, you're likely coming from local knowledge or a topo map.
Center Pond is a 13-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough that it doesn't draw the same traffic as the larger named lakes in the area, but large enough to hold interest if you're exploring the back roads and logging routes in this part of the eastern Adirondacks. No official fish species data on record, which usually means it's either brook trout water that hasn't been surveyed in decades or it's gone fishless — local knowledge beats the DEC spreadsheet here. Access details are thin, but ponds this size in the Schroon Lake corridor are often walk-ins from old forest roads or private land with informal use patterns — worth a knock on a door or a conversation at the general store before you bushwhack.
Train Pond is a small 13-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of those named ponds that exists on the map more definitively than it does in paddling guides or trail registers. No fish stocking records, no marked access trail in the standard inventories, which typically means either private-land borders or a bushwhack approach through second-growth forest and wetland edge. The name suggests railroad history — the region's logging-era rail corridors often left ponds with utilitarian names and few formal recreation structures. If you're hunting it down, start with the DEC's Unit Management Plan maps and confirm land status before you walk in.
Mountain Pond is a 13-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough that it holds its own character against the shoreline pines. No fish stocking records on file, which in this part of the Park usually means either native brookies that never made anyone's creel survey or a pond that winters too hard to hold trout year-round. The name suggests ridge access rather than roadside pull-off, but without a clear trail register in the DEC database it's likely old-growth local knowledge or a bushwhack destination. Worth a call to the Tupper Lake outfitters if you're hunting unmapped water.
Streeter Fishpond is a 13-acre pond in the Old Forge area — small enough to stay off most radar, large enough to hold some character. The name suggests stocking history or private management at some point, though current fish population and public access details are thin on the ground. Old Forge waters tend to be either heavily trafficked (the Fulton Chain) or tucked into working forest with gated seasonal roads — Streeter likely falls into the latter category. Worth a call to the Old Forge visitor center or local outfitters if you're trying to pin down current conditions or whether there's a put-in.
White Lily Pond is a 13-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to stay off most radar, large enough to hold a canoe trip worth making. The name suggests wild lily pads by midsummer, the kind of shoreline that stays soft and weedy rather than granite-edged. No fish data on record, no nearby peaks pulling traffic toward trailheads — this is the category of Adirondack pond you find by local suggestion or by studying the DeLorme closely. Access details remain quiet; if you know, you know.
Inman Pond is a 13-acre water tucked into the eastern Lake George Wild Forest — small enough to feel like a find, large enough to paddle without running out of shoreline in twenty minutes. No public launch or marked trailhead appears on DEC maps, which typically means either old logging roads or bushwhacking from nearby forest access points; it's the kind of pond that shows up on USGS quads but not in the casual conversation at the Bolton boat launch. The Lake George Wild Forest holds dozens of these unmapped ponds — some accessible, some not, most quiet. Worth a map check and a scout if you're already working the woods south of Brant Lake or the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness boundary.
Sheltered Lakes is a 13-acre pond in the Brant Lake region — small enough that the name feels aspirational, tucked into the rolling terrain west of the lake itself. No fish stocking records on file, no documented public access trail in the DEC system, which usually means either private shoreline or a local-knowledge bushwhack that hasn't made it onto the official maps. The Brant Lake area skews toward private camps and seasonal cottages, so this one likely falls into that category. Worth a knock on a door if you're staying nearby and curious about the name.
Riley Ponds — plural, though the name reads singular — is a 13-acre water tucked into the Old Forge township, far enough off the main corridor that it doesn't carry the traffic of the Fulton Chain or the Fourth Lake recreation zones. No fish species on record, no marked peaks within quick striking distance, and no DEC lean-tos or campsites flagged in the immediate drainage — which means it's either private, lightly managed, or both. If you know how to reach it, you already know why you're going; if you're browsing listings hoping for a trailhead name and a put-in, this one stays off the list.
Howard Pond is a 13-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to miss on a map, tucked into the low-relief country east of the High Peaks where the Adirondacks begin their long roll toward Lake Champlain. The pond sits in mixed second-growth forest without nearby trail infrastructure or maintained access, the kind of spot that shows up in DEC pond inventories but rarely in trip reports. No fish species data on record, no designated campsites, no established parking — this is private-land-checkerboard territory where a topo map and polite inquiry are your starting tools. For anglers and paddlers hunting solitude over scenery, ponds like Howard are the trade: access homework required, but no company once you're there.
Pine Lakes sits in the backcountry west of Speculator — a small, unassuming water that holds the plural name despite its 13-acre footprint. Access details are sparse in the official record, which usually means old logging roads, informal paths, or a put-in that requires local knowledge and a willingness to bushwhack. No fish stocking data on file, no designated campsites in the DEC inventory — this is the kind of water that shows up on the map but stays off the weekend rotation. If you're headed in, confirm access and conditions with the Region 5 DEC office in Ray Brook before committing to the drive.
Diamond Pond is a small 13-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — one of dozens of modest ponds scattered across the northwestern plateau that don't appear on the standard tourist circuit. No fish stocking records, no established trails on the DEC register, no lean-tos or designated campsites in the immediate drainage. It's the kind of water that shows up on the topo map but rarely in trip reports — either private, landlocked by blowdown, or simply overlooked in a region dense with bigger, more accessible options. If you're poking around the backroads near Saranac Lake and see the name on a forest access sign, it's worth a look — but temper expectations and bring a compass.
Racker Vly is a 13-acre pond in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough to slip past most paddlers and fishermen working the bigger water nearby. The name carries the old Dutch *vly* (lowland, wetland), suggesting the pond sits in flat, marshy terrain rather than the rocky glacial bowls common farther north. No fish species data on record, which often means either a shallow, warm system prone to winterkill or simply a water that hasn't drawn survey attention. Worth a look if you're exploring the backroads south of the lake, but manage expectations accordingly.
Potter Pond is a small 13-acre water in the Speculator region — one of those named ponds that appears on the map but rarely makes it into conversation. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trail infrastructure, no nearby summit objectives to anchor a trip itinerary. It's the kind of place that matters most to the people who already know how to find it: a navigational landmark, a bushwhack waypoint, or a quiet paddle destination for someone camping nearby who wants an hour of solitude before dinner.
Jerry Vly is a 13-acre pond in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — "vly" being the old Dutch term for wetland or marsh, a naming convention that shows up across the southern Adirondacks and Mohawk Valley. The pond sits in relatively low-elevation terrain compared to the High Peaks corridor, part of the working forest and private land mosaic that defines this corner of the Park. No fish species on record, which typically signals either limited public access or seasonal water levels that don't support a fishery. Worth noting the name if you're tracing old maps or deeds — these Dutch placenames (vly, kill, vlei) mark some of the earliest European settlement patterns in the region.
Bullpout Pond is a 13-acre water tucked into the Paradox Lake region — small enough to hold no formal fish stocking records and remote enough to stay off the day-tripper circuit. The name suggests a history of bullhead catfish (bullpout in local usage), though without current species data it's unclear what swims here now. Waters this size in the Paradox drainage typically see light pressure from anglers willing to bushwhack or paddle-and-portage for solitude. Access details are scarce; if you're headed in, confirm the route with DEC or local outfitters before committing the day.
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.
Twin Ponds sits in the Indian Lake township — a small, 13-acre water in a region dense with remote ponds and working forest. No fish species on DEC record, which typically means either unstocked native brookies or a seasonal pond that doesn't winter over reliably. The name suggests a pair of connected basins or a neighboring twin just off the maps — common in this stretch of the central Adirondacks where wetlands, beaver work, and old logging roads blur the line between pond and marsh. Access details are scarce; if you're heading in, confirm the route with the Indian Lake town office or a local who knows the private-land boundaries.
Bone Pond is a 13-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational radars, which is usually the point. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trailheads, no lean-tos — this is either private-access or deep-woods bushwhack territory, the kind of water that only gets visited by locals who know the property lines or serious map-and-compass types willing to navigate without a trail. If you're asking about it, you probably already know how to get there.
Buck Pond is a 13-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to hold no state fish stocking records and quiet enough to stay off most paddling itineraries. It sits in the working landscape south of the Fulton Chain, where private holdings and seasonal camps break up the more continuous state forest you find deeper in the park. No known public access or trail system links it to the broader Old Forge lake network, so it remains functionally private or landlocked. If you're chasing named waters on a map, this one stays a pin drop.
Twitchell Creek — despite the name, a 13-acre pond tucked into the Old Forge basin — sits in the kind of middle ground that doesn't command attention but still holds a day on the water. No fish records on file, no marked trails in the immediate listings, no summit routes converging nearby; it's lake-country real estate without the resort apparatus or the wilderness pedigree. The acreage suggests a paddling afternoon rather than a through-route, and the Old Forge context puts it within range of the town launch infrastructure and the Fulton Chain logistics. Worth knowing if you're working the back pockets of the region and need a quiet put-in that isn't on the standard rotation.
Sweet Pond is a 13-acre patch of water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't draw crowds, remote enough that local knowledge matters more than guidebook mentions. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or just a quiet place to paddle without worrying about the catching. The name suggests old logging-camp geography or a family homestead long reclaimed by second growth, the kind of nomenclature that sticks around on USGS quads after the clearings grow back in. Worth asking at a Tupper Lake outfitter or the local DEC office for current access — ponds this size often live behind gated logging roads or unmarked two-tracks that change status with land sales and easement updates.
Sevey Pond is a 13-acre backcountry pocket in the Tupper Lake wild — small enough to paddle in an hour, remote enough that most visitors arrive by intention rather than accident. No fish stocking records and no formal trail designation means this is old-growth Adirondack water: you either know how to find it or you don't. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and spruce lowlands typical of the northern forest belt, the kind of place where loons show up in May and stay through September because no one bothers them. If you're in the area with a canoe and a topo map, Sevey is worth the effort — but call it a destination, not a detour.
Brother Ponds is a 13-acre backcountry water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers in a given summer. No fish stocking records on file, which isn't unusual for remote ponds this size; they're either wild brook trout nurseries or fishless entirely, and you won't know until you get there. The name suggests a paired-pond system, common in glacial till country where kettles form in clusters. Access details are sparse — assume a bushwhack or an unmaintained trail from a nearby forest road, and plan accordingly with map, compass, and low expectations for signage.
Mud Pond — thirteen acres tucked into the woods south of Speculator — is one of dozens of small, lightly-visited ponds in the southern Adirondacks that hold their appeal precisely because they require a bit of local knowledge or map work to reach. No fish data on record, which usually means it's a shallow, tea-colored basin that freezes hard in winter and warms early in spring — the kind of water that's better for a solo paddle in October than a fishing trip in July. The surrounding forest is more modest than the High Peaks corridor: lower ridges, gentler topography, fewer people. Check the DEC Unit Management Plan for the area or stop at the Speculator town office for access intel — these ponds rarely have formal trailheads.
Carp Pond is a small 13-acre water tucked into the Lake George Wild Forest — one of those ponds that shows up on the topo but rarely makes it into conversation. No fish data on file, no marked recreation sites, and the shoreline access situation is unclear enough that most paddlers stick to the better-documented waters in the region. The name suggests either an old stocking effort or a settler's optimism about what might survive in a shallow Adirondack pond. If you're heading this way, confirm access and ownership lines before you bushwhack — the Lake George Wild Forest has plenty of easier entry points for backcountry water.
Shallow Pond is a 13-acre water tucked into the Old Forge working forest — the kind of place that shows up on a topo map but rarely makes it into a trip report. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trail system, no lean-to — this is either private land or a bushwhack destination for someone who likes the idea of a pond more than the amenities that come with it. The name tells you what you need to know about depth and probably about summer warmth; if you're after solitude and you've got the navigation skills, it's out there. Confirm access and ownership before you go.
Mud Pond — one of dozens in the Park with the same name — sits in the Tupper Lake region as a small, shallow 13-acre body with no fish species on DEC record and no major peaks or trail systems nearby. The name tracks: soft-bottomed ponds like this tend to be seasonal fishing spots at best, with water levels and oxygen conditions that don't favor stocked or native trout populations. These are the waters that fill the gaps between the destinations — ecological service ponds, breeding habitat for amphibians, quiet water for a solo paddle if you can find access. Check with local DEC or town offices for road access; many small ponds in this category sit on private or timber company land with variable public entry.
Oxshoe Pond is a 13-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold a canoe for an hour or two. No public access is documented, and no fish data on file with DEC, which usually means either private shoreline or a bushwhack approach through state land with no maintained trail. The name suggests old logging or surveying usage — oxshoe bends and pond-studded valleys were common rest stops in the 19th-century timber corridors east of Schroon Lake. Worth a map check if you're exploring the Paradox backcountry, but set expectations for exploration rather than amenities.
Jerry Pond is a 13-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of the smaller named ponds in a region where the big waters (Indian Lake proper, Lake Abanakee) pull most of the attention. No fish stocking records on file, and no established DEC campsites or marked trail access in the immediate vicinity, which suggests either private inholdings or a bushwhack approach for anyone determined to fish it. In a town with over 4,000 acres of accessible lake surface and a dozen pull-off boat launches, Jerry Pond stays off the weekend circuit by default.
Mud Pond — thirteen acres outside Speculator — is one of dozens of small ponds in the southern Adirondacks that appear on the topo but carry no documented access trail, no fish stocking record, and no DEC lean-to within shouting distance. The name tells you what you need to know about the shoreline: soft bottom, alder thickets, and the kind of quiet that comes from being off the beaten circuit. Ponds like this one are beaver habitat first, paddling destinations second — worth a bushwhack if you're already in the area and curious, but not a feature trip. No species data on file means you're fishing on speculation if you bring a rod.
Moriah Pond is a 13-acre water tucked into the southeastern Adirondacks near the hamlet of Paradox Lake — relatively little-documented compared to the High Peaks corridor ponds, but part of the broader network of small waters that define the Schroon Lake / Paradox drainage. No fish species data on file, which typically means either unstocked wild brookies or a pond that doesn't hold trout through the summer drawdown. The region itself sits in the transition zone between the central mountains and the Champlain Valley lowlands — less trafficked, more private land in the mix, and worth confirming access before heading out with a map and the DEC road-access layer.
Prier Pond is a 13-acre body of water in the Indian Lake township — small enough to slip past most regional guides, remote enough that access details don't appear in the standard DEC inventory. No recorded fish data, no established trail mentions, no nearby lean-tos in the public record. It's the kind of pond that exists in name and on the topo map but not yet in the recreational database — either truly difficult to reach or simply overlooked in a region dense with larger, better-known waters. Worth confirming access and ownership before planning a visit.
Harry Ponds — a 13-acre body of water tucked into the woods near Old Forge — sits off the main circulation of the Fulton Chain corridor, which means quieter water than Fourth Lake but less infrastructure and detail in the stocking or access record. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually signals either unstocked private water or a pond that gets overlooked in the survey rotation. The Old Forge township has dozens of small ponds like this one: close enough to snowmobile trail networks and logging roads to be reachable, remote enough that you'll want a local contact or a good topo before you commit to the bushwhack.
Whitney Pond is a 12-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on regional recreation maps, but mapped and named all the same. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means limited access, marginal habitat, or both. These small ponds tucked into the working forest often serve as navigation landmarks for hunters and snowmobilers rather than fishing or paddling destinations. If you're heading out here, confirm access and ownership before you go — not all named waters in this part of the park sit on public land.
O'Keefe Pond is a 12-acre water in the Lake George region — small enough to slip past most maps, large enough to hold its own quiet. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trails leading in, no lean-tos advertised — which usually means either private shoreline or a walk-in situation known mostly to locals who've been there since childhood. Waters like this tend to sit in the gap between state land and private holdings, accessed by old logging roads or neighborhood right-of-ways that don't make it into the DEC trail guides. If you're looking for it, start with the town tax maps and a conversation at the nearest general store.
Mud Pond — a 12-acre water in the Lake George region — sits in the category of ponds that reward the effort to find them but don't advertise their location. No fish data on record, no nearby peaks, no maintained trail infrastructure in the database: this is a pond for wanderers who like their Adirondack waters without the amenities. The name tells you what to expect underfoot — soft margins, muck bottom, probably beaver activity — and the size tells you what to expect on the water: intimate, shallow, the kind of place where a canoe or kayak makes more sense than a fishing rod. If you know where it is, you already know why you're going.
Panther Pond is a 12-acre water in the Old Forge town network — small enough to kayak in an afternoon, tucked into the working forests south of the Fulton Chain where state land and private timber parcels checker the map. No official fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or nothing at all; local anglers will know which. Access typically requires either permission across private land or a longer approach through state forest — confirm access and boundaries before heading in, as this is timber country where gates and roads shift with harvest schedules. Worth the recon if you're after solitude within striking distance of Old Forge.
Toad Pond is a 12-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to slip past most paddlers hunting for bigger destinations, which is half the appeal. No fish data on record, no marked trails leading in, no lean-tos advertised — the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC map as a blue dot and rewards anyone willing to bushwhack or poke around old logging roads to find it. If you're based in Tupper Lake and looking for a quiet morning paddle or a place to test a new canoe without company, Toad Pond delivers exactly that: 12 acres of water, no pressure, no crowd.
Drunkard Pond sits off the Moose River Road corridor south of Old Forge — 12 acres of backcountry water in the low country west of the main tourist flow. The name alone marks it as one of the old logging-era ponds that dot this stretch of state land, where the forest history runs deeper than the recreation infrastructure. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means wild brookies or nothing at all — worth a cast if you're already in the area, but not a destination fishery. Access details are sparse; if you're hunting it down, start with the Moose River Plains Wild Forest maps and plan for bushwhacking or old jeep roads that may or may not still be passable.
Windfall Pond is a 12-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't draw crowds, large enough that it holds its own identity in a landscape dense with named ponds and unmarked wetlands. The name suggests blowdown history, likely from one of the big wind events that periodically reshape the Adirondack forest canopy and open sightlines across otherwise enclosed waters. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either too shallow for reliable winter oxygen levels or it's simply off the stocking rotation and unmapped by DEC surveys. Worth checking local access intel before committing to a bushwhack — some small ponds in this zone sit behind private land or require navigation through thick regrowth.
Slim Pond is a 12-acre water tucked into the Blue Mountain Lake township — one of those small ponds that sits off the main travel corridors and sees more moose than paddlers. No fish species on record, which either means it winters out or nobody's bothered to survey it formally; either way, it's not a angling destination. The lack of nearby trail infrastructure or designated campsites keeps this one quiet — a map-and-compass objective for paddlers willing to work for solitude. If you're already in the area with a canoe on the roof and a taste for exploration, Slim Pond rewards the effort with silence and a tight shoreline of spruce and tamarack.
West Ponds sits in the Old Forge town parcel — a pair of connected wetland basins totaling 12 acres, more bog than open water depending on the season. No fish stocking records and no formal trail access in the DEC inventory, which keeps it off the recreational radar but potentially interesting for anyone mapping the lesser-known waters in the Fulton Chain corridor. The ponds drain northeast toward the Middle Branch of the Moose River system; likely a paddler's curiosity or a winter bushwhack destination rather than a fishing or camping base. If you're looking for named Old Forge ponds with established access, start with Big Moose Lake or the Fulton Chain and work outward from there.
Mulleyville Pond is a 12-acre water tucked into the southern Adirondack fringe near the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — one of those small working ponds that predates the reservoir and still holds a corner of the old landscape. No fish data on file, no formal trails or lean-tos in the immediate catalog, which usually means private shoreline or minimal public access — worth a Town of Mayfield inquiry if you're prospecting the back roads between Northville and the lake. The name suggests an old settlement or family holding; ponds this size in this region often sit behind camps or serve as local swimming holes rather than backcountry destinations. If you're launching a canoe or scouting for bass, confirm access before you drive.
Number Nine Pond is a 12-acre pocket of water in the Lake George wild forest — small enough to miss on a map, quiet enough to feel like you earned it. The name comes from the old Great Lot survey system that carved up this stretch of Washington County in the 18th century; you'll find Number Ten Pond and Number Eleven Pond on the same grid to the east. No DEC fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or nothing — worth a cast if you're already back here. Access details are scarce in the public record, but ponds this size in this region typically mean bushwhacking or unmaintained trails off old logging roads.
Elk Pond is a 12-acre water in the Long Lake township — small enough to stay off most itineraries but public forest nonetheless. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or just a cold headwater pond holding frogs and dragonflies. The name suggests old hunting-camp geography or a forgotten trapper's story, but those details are lost now. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious about what fills the gaps between the named trails.
Twentyninth Pond is a 12-acre pocket water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational fishing reports, quiet enough that it stays off most paddling itineraries. The name suggests it was part of an old surveyor's sequence or township grid, though no dramatic origin story has stuck to it the way some Adirondack waters collect lore. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked and unfished or too small and shallow to support a year-round population. Worth knowing if you're working through obscure ponds in the area, but this one doesn't pull visitors the way named-peak basins or roadside access points do.
