Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Mud Pond is an 11-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to slip past most paddlers, but that's often the point with ponds this size. No fish records on file, which suggests either stocking never took hold or no one's reported what they've caught, and access details aren't well-documented in the usual trailhead databases. These low-profile ponds tend to be local spots or bushwhack destinations — worth asking at a Saranac Lake outfitter if you're set on finding it, but temper expectations if you're looking for marked trails or maintained campsites.
Cotters Pond is an 11-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to miss on most maps, set in the mix of private land and old working forest that defines this corner of the eastern Adirondacks. The Paradox Lake corridor runs quieter than the High Peaks or the central lakes, and ponds like Cotters tend to hold their solitude: no marked trails, no DEC campsites, no pressure from day-trippers routing between bigger destinations. Access details are sparse, which usually means posted shoreline or a bushwhack through second-growth hardwoods. No fish data on record, but that's the norm for small ponds off the tourism grid — worth a knock on a nearby door if you're curious.
Spectacle Pond is an 11-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more attention from local anglers and paddlers than from through-hikers or destination tourists. The name suggests a distinct shape or shoreline feature visible from above or from an approach trail, though without documented fish species or formal DEC records, it reads as a quiet, low-maintenance water. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake corridor often sit on private land or see minimal stocking pressure — worth confirming access and ownership before planning a visit.
Muir Pond is an 11-acre pond in the Old Forge area — small enough to slip past most maps, large enough to hold water worth finding. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either legacy brookies or nothing at all; the pond's size and remoteness suggest the former is possible but not guaranteed. Access details are sparse in the DEC records, which in the Old Forge region often means seasonal logging roads, private inholdings, or a put-in that depends on knowing which turn to take. Worth a reconnaissance trip if you're working through the deeper Old Forge inventory — but confirm access before you commit the afternoon.
Twin Ponds — eleven acres tucked in the Old Forge area — is one of those waters that appears on maps but keeps a low profile in the rotation. No formal fish survey data on file, which usually means either marginal habitat or it's been fished out and forgotten, though small Adirondack ponds like this sometimes hold brook trout populations that fly under the radar. Access details are sparse, likely walk-in from a logging road or private-land crossing; confirming the approach before hauling in a canoe is the move. Worth a look if you're working the Old Forge backcountry and want something off the standard lake circuit.
Marsh Pond is an 11-acre water tucked into the broader Lake Placid region — small enough to scan in a single glance, large enough to hold the quiet when you need it. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or it's simply a wetland holding basin with beaver activity and seasonal depth. The name tells the story: expect soft edges, marsh grass, and the kind of shoreline that keeps casual visitors at a distance. Worth a look if you're already working through the area's less-trafficked ponds, but confirm access and conditions locally before committing to the bushwhack.
Tanaher Pond is an 11-acre water tucked into the Keene town boundaries — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. The pond sits outside the standard hiking corridors and trailhead clusters that define the central High Peaks, which means it's either private, roadless, or both. No fish data on record, no established DEC presence, no nearby lean-tos in the state system. If you're looking for it, start with the town clerk or a pre-1950s USGS quad — this one belongs to the category of named Adirondack waters that exist on paper more than they do in boots-on-trail reality.
Otter Pond is an 11-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough to fall off most paddling itineraries, but that's often the point with ponds this size in the central Adirondacks. No fish species data on file, which usually means it's either unstocked brook trout water that doesn't get sampled, or it winters out and holds nothing but frogs and dragonflies by July. The name suggests historical beaver activity, and ponds this size in the Raquette drainage typically sit in low-relief basins with marshy edges and old logging roads as access points. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe and no agenda.
Horton Ponds sit in the working forest northwest of Tupper Lake — eleven acres of backcountry water accessible via private logging roads that shift status depending on timber operations and landowner agreements. No formal trails, no DEC signage, no stocking records in the state database. This is not a destination pond unless you're already deep in the region's timber road network with a map, a truck, and a reason to be there. For public-access fishing and paddling near Tupper Lake, Raquette Pond and Hitchins Pond to the south are the reliable alternatives.
Reeds Pond is an 11-acre pond in the Old Forge area — small enough to slip past most paddlers chasing bigger water, but that's the point. No fish species data on record, which typically means either unstocked and marginal habitat or simply overlooked by DEC surveys; either way, it's not a fishing destination. The Old Forge corridor has dozens of ponds in this size class, most accessible by snowmobile trail or seasonal logging road, and most offering the kind of quiet you don't get on the Fulton Chain. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe and time to explore past the obvious launches.
Rock Pond is an 11-acre water in the Indian Lake town complex — part of the scattered network of smaller ponds and wetlands that fill the valleys west of Indian Lake village. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means brookies if anything, or more likely a shallow basin that doesn't hold trout through summer. The name suggests either a rocky shoreline or a glacial erratic landmark, common enough in this stretch of the southern Adirondacks where the terrain flattens and the ponds sit lower and warmer than their High Peaks counterparts. Access details aren't widely documented — likely private land or unmaintained woods roads from the hamlet networks around Indian Lake and Sabael.
Spearie Pond is an 11-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. The pond sits in the working forest grid south and west of the main Raquette Lake basin, where old logging roads and property lines determine what's hikeable and what isn't. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means brook trout if anything, or nothing at all. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and ownership before you bushwhack — this is mixed-use country, not the High Peaks corridor.
Shaw Pond is an 11-acre water in the Long Lake township — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold a few hours of exploring by canoe or kayak. No formal fish stocking records and no trailhead signage in the DEC database, which often means local knowledge or a bushwhack approach from a nearby road or logging trace. These off-the-grid ponds tend to fish for wild brookies if the water stays cold and the inlet feeds year-round, but that's speculation without a site visit. Worth a look if you're already in the Long Lake area and hunting for solitude beyond the obvious put-ins.
Streeter Pond is an 11-acre water in the Brant Lake region — small enough to slip past notice on most maps, but a legitimate named pond nonetheless. No public access data on record, no fish stocking history in the DEC database, and the kind of acreage that suggests either private shoreline or a bushwhack approach through unmaintained woodland. If you're poking around the Brant Lake area with a topo map and a tolerance for uncertainty, Streeter Pond is the sort of destination that rewards the effort with solitude — assuming you can reach it.
Green Pond is an 11-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel removed once you're on it. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either stocked intermittently or fished lightly enough that DEC surveys haven't prioritized it. The Old Forge corridor has dozens of ponds in this size range, many accessible by short carries from forest roads or connected by the region's interlocking paddle routes. Check with Old Forge outfitters for current access — some of these smaller ponds shift between private easement and open carry depending on landowner agreements.
Lower Cat Pond is an 11-acre pocket tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough that it holds water through dry summers and registers on the old survey maps. No fish stocking records, no trail register, no lean-to — this is the kind of water that shows up in deed descriptions and on paddlers' mental lists of "ponds I've passed but never stopped at." The name suggests an Upper Cat Pond somewhere upstream, but the naming logic of these old working-forest waters doesn't always survive into the present. Best guess for access: private logging roads or a bushwhack off a larger route — check current ownership and ask locally before heading in.
Wilder Pond is an 11-acre backcountry pond in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to feel private, large enough to paddle if you can get a canoe in. No fish data on file with DEC, which typically means either unstocked native brookies or none at all; the pond sits in quiet forest without the kind of oxygen or depth that holds larger fish. Access details are scarce in the public record, suggesting either bushwhack-only entry or private land complications — standard for smaller waters in this part of the park. If you're near Raquette Lake village and curious, ask locally before heading out.
Ward Pond is an 11-acre pond in the Long Lake town corridor — small enough to miss on a topo map, quiet enough to have if you find it. No fish stocking records on file, no designated campsites, no trailhead signs — the kind of water that exists in the gap between state land and private parcels, more useful as a landmark for hunters and snowmobilers than as a paddling destination. If you're looking for solitude and you know how to navigate by contour, Ward Pond delivers; if you need a put-in and a lean-to, keep driving toward Lake Eaton or Forked Lake.
Big Cherrypatch Pond is an 11-acre water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it lives mostly in the local knowledge column, not the tourist circuit. The name suggests old clearings or burn scars where wild cherry moved in, a common Adirondack succession story, though the pond itself has likely grown back to mixed hardwood and softwood by now. No fish data on file, which often means either limited access or a pond that doesn't hold populations through winter drawdown. If you know where it is, you know why you're going — and that's usually the ponds worth the effort.
Lake Kan-ac-to is an 11-acre pond tucked into the Old Forge wild—small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough to paddle without circling twice in ten minutes. The name carries the Old Forge tradition of Iroquois-inflected place names (real or imagined), part of the nomenclature wave that swept through the central Adirondacks in the late 1800s when resort culture met romanticized indigeneity. No fish data on file, which usually means unmaintained, catch-what's-there brook trout or nothing at all. Access details are sparse; if you're heading out, confirm the route with the Old Forge Visitor Center or local outfitters before committing to the bushwhack.
West Pond is an 11-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough to fall off most paddlers' radar, which is usually the point. No fish data on record suggests it's either unsurveyed or simply not stocked, and the lack of nearby trail infrastructure means access is likely bushwhack or private-road dependent. In the Raquette Lake region that often translates to local knowledge or a conversation with a landowner — this isn't the kind of pond you stumble onto from a marked trailhead. Worth a query at the general store if you're staying nearby and looking for still water.
Horseshoe Pond is an 11-acre water tucked into the Old Forge area — small enough to paddle in an hour, quiet enough that most traffic flows past to bigger destinations in the Fulton Chain or toward the western High Peaks. No fish species on record, which typically means it's either been overlooked by DEC surveys or it's a shallow, tea-colored basin better suited to frogs and dragonflies than trout. Access details are sparse in public records — if you're hunting for it, start with local outfitters or the Old Forge Visitor Center for current conditions and put-in intel.
Mud Pond is an 11-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to miss on a regional map, typical of the glacial kettle ponds scattered through the eastern Adirondacks. The name tells you what to expect: shallow margins, organic bottom, the kind of pond that warms early in spring and holds brook trout if it holds fish at all. No species data on file, which often means either unstocked native brookies or a pond that winters out every few decades. Access and ownership status unclear — if you're heading in, confirm with the local DEC office or check the latest Open Space Map for public entry points.
Mud Pond — all ten acres of it — sits somewhere in the sprawl of state land and private parcels west of Lake George, the kind of small water that shows up on the DEC list but doesn't generate its own trailhead sign or parking pull-off. No fish stocking records, no documented access notes, no nearby peaks to anchor a day trip — which means it's either genuinely remote, landlocked by private holdings, or both. The Lake George Wild Forest holds dozens of these small ponds, some reachable by bushwhack or old logging trace, others effectively inaccessible without crossing posted land. If you're hunting for it, start with the DEC unit management plan and a phone call to the Ray Brook office.
Little Mouldy Pond is one of those ten-acre specks tucked into the Old Forge working forest — the kind of water that shows up on a topo map but rarely in trip reports. The name suggests beaver work and tannic water, and at this size it's more likely a bushwhack or snowshoe destination than a maintained trail objective. No fish stocking records, no DEC campsite designations — this is old-growth silence and maybe a moose track in the mud. If you're looking for it, you already know why.
Mud Pond is one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the Old Forge township — at 10 acres, it's the kind of water that shows up on topographic maps but rarely in guidebooks. No fish stocking records on file, no trail register, no lean-to — which means it's either a bushwhack destination for someone with a compass and a reason, or it's a put-in for a local who knows the logging road. The name tells you what you need to know about the bottom. If you're looking for a pond to paddle in the Old Forge area, start with the Fulton Chain or the ponds off the Moose River Plains — this one earns its obscurity.
Mud Pond is one of several small, shallow ponds bearing the name in the Saranac Lake region — this one a 10-acre brushy basin that tends toward the marshy end of the pond spectrum. It's the kind of water that appears on the DEC inventory but doesn't make it into the hiking guides: limited access, soft bottom, more beaver activity than boat activity. No fish data on record, which usually means it's either too shallow to winter over trout or nobody's bothered to sample it in decades. If you're looking for solitude and don't mind wet boots, it delivers — but most paddlers in the area will pass it by for the clearer water and better campsites on the bigger Saranac chain.
Brother Ponds is a 10-acre water in the Paradox Lake wild forest — a name that suggests a pair, though mapping shows a single pond body with an indented shoreline that reads like two lobes pressed together. The Paradox Lake region runs quiet compared to the High Peaks corridor to the west, and most ponds here see more moose than hikers. No fish data on record, which typically means limited access, minimal stocking history, or both. Worth checking DEC's wild forest unit map for the area if you're hunting lesser-known water in the eastern Adirondacks.
Little Mud Pond is a ten-acre water in the Keene town corridor — small enough that it sits off most radar, with no formal recreation infrastructure and no fish stocking on record. The name tells you what to expect: shallow, soft-bottomed, more wetland transition than swimming hole, the kind of pond that holds wood ducks and spotted sandpipers but rarely sees a canoe. It's the sort of place you stumble on while bushwhacking between trail systems or scanning a topo map for solitude. No trails, no sites, no pressure — just a quiet pocket of low water doing what ponds do when nobody's watching.
Cameras Pond is a 10-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough to slip past most hikers, large enough to hold its shape on a topo map. No maintained trails, no lean-tos, no fish stocking records — which means it's either a bushwhack destination for someone with coordinates and curiosity, or a name you pass on the way to somewhere else. The pond sits in that middle category of Adirondack water: not remote enough to feel like a discovery, not accessible enough to justify the detour unless you're already in the neighborhood. Worth a look if you're mapping the area; worth skipping if you're chasing trout or a sunset swim.
Close Pond is a ten-acre water in the Tupper 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 data on record, which usually means either marginal habitat or simply that DEC hasn't surveyed it in decades. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake corridor often sit on private timber company land or require a bushwhack off a seasonal logging road — worth a map check and a property line review before you commit to the drive. If you're after solitude and don't need a stocked trout pond, this is the kind of water that delivers.
Little Sherman Pond is a 10-acre water tucked into the woods west of Schroon Lake village — small enough that it stays off most regional maps and quiet enough that you're likely fishing or paddling alone. No official state records on what swims here, which usually means native brookies or bass that wandered up from bigger water, but locals who know the access keep their reports to themselves. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and hemlock cover typical of the eastern Adirondacks — not dramatic terrain, but the kind of forested stillwater that rewards anyone willing to bushwhack or follow old logging traces. If you're looking for solitude within five miles of a grocery store, this is the template.
Marion Pond is a 10-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough that it holds a defined shoreline and some depth. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either unstocked and marginal habitat, or it's simply off the stocking and survey grid. Access and usage patterns aren't well-documented in the standard trail or DEC records, so if you're heading in, confirm current conditions and approach routes locally. Worth a look if you're already working the Schroon Lake backcountry and want to add a quiet pond to the route.
Mud Pond — ten acres in the Speculator region — is one of dozens of small, named waters scattered through the southern Adirondacks that exist more as cartographic fact than recreational destination. No fish stocking records, no marked trail, no lean-to — the kind of pond you bushwhack to if you're curious or if you're connecting larger routes through the backcountry. The name tells you what to expect: shallow, marshy shoreline, likely beaver activity, and water that warms early in the season. If you're poking around this drainage, bring a topo map and a tolerance for wet feet.
Beaver Pond — ten acres tucked somewhere in the broader Lake George region — is one of those small waters that shows up on the DEC list but doesn't carry much of a paper trail. No fish stocking records, no marked trailhead in the standard guidebooks, no lean-to or campsite designation that made it into the planning maps. It's likely a wetland feeder or a roadside pullover pond that earned a name locally but never developed the infrastructure or the fishing pressure to generate data. If you're looking for specifics on access or conditions, check the latest DEC quad map or ask at the nearest ranger station — this one's off the documented grid.
Jackson Pond is a 10-acre water tucked into the Old Forge township — small enough that it likely sees more moose and beaver traffic than paddlers, and remote enough that it doesn't carry the same name recognition as the bigger recreational waters in the Fulton Chain corridor. No fish species data on record, which either means no stocking history or just no one's bothered to document what swims there. If you're looking for solitude within reasonable distance of Old Forge, ponds this size are worth the scouting — but bring a topo map and expect bushwhacking or gated logging roads rather than marked trailheads.
Dudley Pond is a 10-acre pocket of water in the Paradox Lake region — quiet, tucked away, and off the main tourist circuits that funnel traffic to Paradox Lake itself or the Crown Point corridor. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means it's either unstocked, winterkills periodically, or simply hasn't been sampled in recent surveys. The surrounding terrain is low-elevation mixed hardwood and hemlock — more Champlain Valley than High Peaks — and access details are scant enough that this one stays local. If you're poking around the back roads between Severance and Paradox, it's worth a look with low expectations and a topo map.
Hotwater Pond is a 10-acre water tucked into the southern Adirondacks near Indian Lake — a region more forgiving than the High Peaks, where ponds like this tend to sit off unblazed woods roads or old logging routes rather than official DEC trails. The name suggests either a warm shallow basin (common in lowland ponds that heat up by midsummer) or some forgotten local story that never made it into the record books. No fish data on file, which either means it's been unstocked for decades or it winters out — shallow ponds in this drainage tend to go anoxic under ice. Worth a look if you're poking around the Cedar River Flow corridor or the old routes between Indian Lake village and the Moose River Plains, but expect to bushwhack the last stretch.
Ordway Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake township — small enough to slip past most maps, remote enough that access details don't circulate widely. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies in low density or fishless altogether; ponds this size in this zone often hold beaver activity and seasonal depth swings that make for marginal habitat. The name suggests old settlement or logging-era presence — Ordway family holdings or a foreman's camp — but the historical record is thin. If you're headed in, expect bushwhack navigation and no formal trail infrastructure.
Grass Pond is a 10-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. The name suggests marshy shoreline and aquatic vegetation, the kind of pond that holds brook trout or sunfish but doesn't draw fishing pressure. Without established trails or lean-tos on record, this is a water for bushwhackers or locals who know the approach — not a destination pond, but the kind of place you stumble onto and have to yourself. No fish species data on file, which usually means either catch-and-release brookies or none at all.
Charlie Pond is a 10-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it likely sees minimal traffic, though without formal access data or fish stocking records, it's one of those ponds that exists more on the map than in the trailhead conversation. Waters this size in the Saranac orbit are often private, shoreline-owned, or tucked behind enough wetland and blowdown that they function as navigator's challenges rather than destinations. If you're chasing it, confirm access and ownership before you bushwhack — the best small ponds in the Park are the ones where you're actually welcome.
Twin Lakes sits in the Old Forge area — a small, 10-acre pond that carries the "lakes" plural in name only, likely referring to a second basin or seasonal pool that shares the drainage. No fish species data on record with DEC, which typically means either limited stocking history or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer heat. The Old Forge region is dense with named ponds and interconnected paddling routes, so Twin Lakes likely serves as a local access point rather than a destination water. If you're looking for it, start with the town assessor's maps or ask at the Old Forge visitors center — many of the smaller named waters in this drainage don't appear on standard trail maps.
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.
Sullivan Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Brant Lake region — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational radar, and far enough from the High Peaks corridor that it sees almost no through-traffic. No fish data on record, no designated campsites, no named trails leading in — which means it's either a local's spot accessed by old logging roads or a wetland margin better suited to birdwatching than paddling. If you know where it is, you probably grew up within five miles of it.
Helms Pond is a 10-acre backcountry water in the Blue Mountain Lake township — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational maps, quiet enough that it sees minimal pressure even in high season. No formal trail access or DEC designation, which means this is private-land or bushwhack territory depending on where you approach from; check current land status and access rights before heading in. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and softwood forest typical of the central Adirondacks — the kind of water that rewards local knowledge and a willingness to navigate without blazes. No fish data on record, but ponds of this size and remoteness often hold brook trout if the inlet streams are cold enough.
Carter Pond is a 10-acre water in the Indian Lake region — part of the southern Adirondack backcountry where named ponds outnumber trail signs and access often means old logging roads or bushwhacking from township routes. No fish data on record, which in this corner of the park usually means limited stocking history and seasonal water levels that don't hold trout year-round. The pond sits in working forestland territory — Finch Pruyn legacy parcels, conservation easements, and state land in a patchwork that requires a good map and low expectations for marked trailheads. Best approached as a navigation exercise rather than a destination swim.
Medbury Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake town corridor — small enough to be overlooked on the regional lake maps, quiet enough to matter if you're the one who finds it. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trailhead signage, no DEC campsites — which means it's either strictly private, landlocked by commercial timber parcels, or accessible only by someone who knows the old skidder roads. If you're poking around the Township 6 / Piercefield area and see a turnoff, ask locally before you walk in.
Pine Pond is a 10-acre pocket water in the Old Forge lake district — small enough to be overlooked in a corridor dense with larger destinations like Fourth Lake and the Fulton Chain. No fish records on file, which typically signals limited depth or winter oxygen issues, but that also means it's quiet: no boat traffic, minimal angling pressure, and the kind of stillness that comes with low expectations. Access and shoreline character depend on whether it falls within a camp association or state land — the Old Forge area is a patchwork of both, and not every pond is publicly accessible. Worth scouting if you're staying nearby and the bigger lakes feel crowded.
Round Pond is a 10-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to feel private, large enough to hold a canoe trip worth making. No public fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or none at all; local knowledge will tell you more than the DEC database. The pond sits in working forest land where access and ownership can shift — check current maps and postings before heading in. If you're fishing the Tupper Lake area and looking for something quieter than the main lakes, this is the kind of water worth a conversation at a local fly shop.
Mile Pond is a ten-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that the name likely describes the distance to something (a road, a bigger lake, a trailhead) rather than anything about the pond itself. No fish species on record, which in this part of the park usually means either private land with limited access or a shallow basin that doesn't hold trout through summer. Without documented public access or nearby trails, this is one to note on the map but not to plan a trip around unless you're working local knowledge or own adjacent property.
The Champlain Canal — not to be confused with Lake Champlain proper — is a narrow, 10-acre impoundment tied to the historic canal system that once linked the Hudson River to Lake Champlain via a series of locks and channels. The canal infrastructure is long decommissioned in this area, leaving behind a quiet backwater that sits off the main recreation corridors of the Lake George region. No fish stocking data on record, no maintained access, no established trails — this is remnant infrastructure, not a destination pond. If you're mapping canal history or wetland corridors in the southern Adirondacks, it's a footnote; otherwise, there are a hundred better reasons to be in the Lake George Wild Forest.
Lost Pond is a 10-acre water in the Long Lake town district — one of dozens of small, unmapped ponds scattered across the central Adirondacks that carry the name "Lost" for good reason. No maintained trail, no DEC campsite inventory, no angler reports in the stocking records — this is backcountry navigational work, not a family day hike. The name shows up on USGS quads and in old surveyor's notes, but access details are sparse and local knowledge is the currency. If you're heading in, bring a compass, a decent topo map, and the expectation that you'll have the place to yourself.
Little Moose Pond — 10 acres tucked in the Long Lake township, name recognition lower than most waters in this part of the central Adirondacks. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trail Intel in the DEC inventory, which typically means either private-land access or a bushwhack-only proposition. Worth a call to the Long Lake town office or a conversation at the general store if you're chasing unmapped water in the area — local knowledge still travels by word of mouth here. If you're after solitude and can confirm the access, 10 acres is small enough to fish from shore in an afternoon.
Buck Mountain Pond is a 10-acre water tucked into the Paradox Lake region — a quieter corner of the eastern Adirondacks where the named ponds outnumber the trailhead parking lots. No fish species on record, which likely means limited stocking history and minimal angling pressure; it's the kind of water that stays off most fishing maps and stays that way. The Paradox Lake area itself sits in the transition zone between the High Peaks to the west and the Champlain lowlands to the east — more hardwood forest, fewer granite summits, and a network of old logging roads that may or may not still be passable. Worth confirming access and conditions with the local DEC office before planning a trip.
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.
Fox Pond is a ten-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — the kind of small backcountry pond that doesn't show up on most recreation checklists but still holds a place on the USGS quad. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system advertised, and no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is the category of Adirondack water that exists more as a landmark for hunters, snowmobilers, and local landowners than as a paddling or fishing destination. Access and ownership status matter here: if you're planning a visit, confirm public entry points and respect posted boundaries before heading in.
Loomis Ponds sits in the low country west of Speculator — a pair of small connected basins that hold water through the summer and sit far enough off the main corridor that most traffic flows toward the better-known lakes to the east. The ponds drain south toward the Sacandaga drainage and are typical of the region's wetland-edge waters: shallow, tannic, buggy in June, and quiet by design. No fish data on record, which likely means either native brookies too small to register or none at all. Access is local-knowledge territory — dirt roads and informal routes that don't appear on the standard DEC trail maps.
Old Pond sits in the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — a small, ten-acre impoundment in the southern Adirondacks where the landscape flattens out and the High Peaks give way to rolling forest and older lakeside communities. The pond is part of the broader Sacandaga watershed, shaped by the 1930 damming that created the Great Sacandaga Lake reservoir and redrew the map of Fulton and Saratoga counties. No fish species data on file, which typically means limited angling pressure and a pond that's either difficult to access or too shallow and weedy to sustain a meaningful fishery. The Sacandaga region skews toward motorboat-and-cottage access rather than backcountry trail culture — Old Pond likely falls into that category.
Buck Ponds — plural, though the main basin reads as a single 10-acre pond — sits in the Speculator region without the fanfare of a trailhead sign or a DEC campsite marker. The name suggests old hunting territory or a settler's claim, but the ponds themselves stay quiet in the deeper woods, off the radar of the lake-access crowd that works NY-30 and the Kunjamuk corridor. No fish data on file, no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is the kind of water that only shows up when you're looking at the survey map or walking an unmarked woods road with a compass and time to kill. If you're paddling the region, it's a side note; if you're hunting or snowshoeing the back country south of Speculator, it's a landmark you pass on the way to somewhere else.
Schofield Pond is a 10-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough to fish from shore if you can reach it, big enough to hold interest if the access is decent. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either unstocked and undersampled or too shallow to winter over anything but stunted brook trout. The Paradox Lake area runs quieter than the lake-district traffic to the north — more working forest, fewer trailhead signs, and ponds that show up on the DEC map but not always in the guidebooks. Worth a look if you're already in the area and inclined to explore off-list.
