Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Bear Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than motorboats, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. No fish species data on file, which in the Adirondacks usually means either truly wild brook trout that no one's bothered to survey, or a shallow basin that winters out. The name suggests old trapper geography; ponds this size were often named for whatever walked past camp. Worth investigating if you're already in the area with a topo map and a tolerance for bushwhacking.
Line Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps and hasn't made it onto the DEC stocking or survey lists. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either too shallow to winter-kill through or too remote to merit sampling. The name suggests either an old surveyor's reference or a property boundary marker from the private-land era — typical for small Adirondack waters that predate the Forest Preserve. Worth checking local trail registers or the DEC Ray Brook office if you're trying to locate access.
Mud Pond in Keene is a five-acre wetland pocket — the kind of small water that appears on the topo but rarely makes it into trip reports or fishing logs. No fish species on record, no maintained trails leading in, no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike around it. These small ponds tend to be beaver-active, marshy-edged, and better suited to birding or bushwhacking practice than destination paddling. If you're in Keene and looking for a swimming hole or a trout pond, keep driving — this one's a map dot, not a feature.
Twin Ponds is a 5-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it likely sees minimal boat traffic and functions more as a destination for anglers willing to walk in than as a paddling feature. No fish species data on record, which in this region usually means brookies or splake if it's been stocked at all, though some of these backcountry ponds go fishless. The name suggests a dual-bowl or split-basin layout, common in the glacial topography around Old Forge where kettle ponds cluster in tight groups. Access details aren't widely documented, so expect either a short unmarked approach or private-land complications — worth a call to the Old Forge Visitor Center before committing to the hike.
Surprise Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational maps and remote enough that it lives up to its name. No fish stocking records and no established access mean this one stays off the casual paddler's radar; if you find it, you're likely doing so by bushwhack or old logging trace rather than marked trail. The pond sits in mixed hardwood-conifer forest typical of the central Adirondack transition zone — quiet, unmanaged, and functionally wild. Bring a compass and don't expect cell service.
Kettle Pond is a five-acre tuck-away in the Old Forge web — the kind of small water that shows up on a topo map but rarely in trip reports. No public launch or marked trail system in the immediate record, which typically means private shoreline or informal access through surrounding parcels. The pond sits in glacial country where the topography is all kettles and eskers and oxbows left behind when the ice pulled back 12,000 years ago — hence the name, repeated a dozen times across the park. If you're looking for it, confirm access and ownership with the town or a local outfitter before you bushwhack.
Gay Pond is a five-acre pocket of stillwater tucked into the southern Adirondacks near the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it won't appear on most road maps, and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trails advertised by DEC, no campsite infrastructure — this is the category of water that gets visited by hunters in November, locals who know the woods, and the occasional bushwhacker working through the USGS quad. If you're looking for a reason to visit, you'll need to supply your own: brook trout exploratory, a winter snowshoe objective, or simply the satisfaction of standing at a place most people will never see. Verify access and landowner permission before heading in.
Mountain Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it reads more like a widened brook than a destination pond, and remote enough that it doesn't show up on the standard touring loops. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or just a cold headwater pool holding frogs and dragonflies. The name suggests elevation, but without nearby peak references it's likely tucked into mid-slope timber rather than alpine basin country. Best treated as a waypoint or a bushwhack objective — not a place you drive to, but a place you pass through or stumble onto.
Round Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull much traffic, remote enough that you won't find much published information on access or fish surveys. The pond sits in central Adirondack mixed forest, likely reached by old logging roads or unmarked paths that require local knowledge or a good map and a tolerance for bushwhacking. No DEC stocking records, no trail register, no lean-to — this is the kind of water that rewards the exploratory paddler or the angler willing to walk in blind. If you're hunting stillwater in the Indian Lake area, this one stays off most radars.
Smith Pond is a five-acre puddle in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely doesn't hold fish and remote enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational radars. Waters this size in the eastern Adirondacks are typically wetland-edge ponds with shallow profiles, more habitat than destination, though they can be worth a look for paddlers working the Schroon Lake Wild Forest drainage or anyone poking around the back roads between Paradox and Schroon. Without documented access or species data, this is strictly a map dot — interesting mostly for collectors who track every named water in the Park.
Seward Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sits off the main recreational circuit, though the name suggests some lineage worth tracing if you're the kind who likes to match old survey maps to current DEC records. No fish species data on file, which typically means either unstocked and untested or too shallow to hold trout year-round; ponds this size in the region often winter-kill. Without a trailhead to point to, this is one to scout on your own — USGS quad in hand, property lines checked, and low expectations for developed access.
Star Mountain Pond is a five-acre water tucked into the rolling forest northwest of Saranac Lake — small enough that it won't appear on most recreational lake lists, but present enough to have earned a name and a spot on the USGS quad. No fish stocking records on file, no developed access, no trail register at a trailhead — this is the kind of pond that shows up when you're bushwhacking between better-known destinations or chasing a drainage on an old topo map. If you're looking for solitude and you know how to navigate off-trail, Star Mountain Pond delivers exactly that: water, woods, and the absence of other people.
Marcy Dam Pond is a 5-acre pond at the High Peaks' busiest trail junction, where the original dam stood until Hurricane Irene took it in 2011. Wright Peak and Mount Phelps frame the water — a reliable vista on the way to Marcy, Algonquin, or the interior ranges.
Snowshoe Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Brant Lake township — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational lake lists, large enough that it holds its own shoreline character rather than reading as a widening in a stream. No fish stocking records and no DEC access data in the public record, which typically means private shoreline or landlocked by older subdivisions in this part of the southern Adirondacks. The Brant Lake region runs quiet compared to the High Peaks or even the central lakes — more year-round residents, fewer trailheads, waters that serve the people who live on them. If you're looking for Snowshoe Pond specifically, start with the town assessor's parcel maps or a knock on a local door.
Readway Ponds — a five-acre cluster in the Tupper Lake region — sits far enough off the main travel corridors that it carries no fish stocking records and no trail register traffic to speak of. The ponds are classic unmanaged Adirondack water: shallow, tannic, beaver-worked, likely holding wild brookies if they hold anything at all. Access details are sparse, which in this part of the park usually means old logging roads, private land considerations, or both. If you're headed in, bring a map, expect bushwhacking, and don't count on company.
Grass Pond is a five-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it likely sits off the main hiking and paddling routes, and without fish stocking records to draw anglers in numbers. Ponds this size in the Saranac Lake corridor are typically walk-in access, often via unmarked or lightly maintained paths, and they're the kind of destination that rewards locals and repeat visitors more than first-time tourists. If you're looking for solitude and can navigate by topo map, ponds like this one offer exactly that — no lean-tos, no marked campsites, just woods and water. Confirm access and ownership before heading in; not all small ponds in this region are on state land.
Glasgow Pond is a five-acre puddle in the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — small enough that it reads more like a wetland feature than a destination water, and remote enough that it doesn't pull traffic from the reservoir shoreline a few ridges away. No fish stocking records, no formal access that shows up on trail registries, and no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is the kind of water that only shows up because we mapped every named pond in the Park, not because anyone's planning a weekend around it. If you're bushwhacking the backcountry between Sacandaga villages or hunting the margins of state land, you might cross it; otherwise, it stays off the list.
Lake Tamarack is a five-acre pond in the Old Forge township — small enough that it reads more like a wide spot in a stream than a destination water, and tucked into the dense second-growth woods typical of the working forest west of the Fulton Chain. No fish stocking records and no formal access — this is the kind of water that shows up on the DeLorme but not on trail registers. If you're poking around Old Forge's backroads or paddling the watershed, you'll find it; otherwise, it's a map dot that stays a map dot. Locals who know it aren't posting coordinates.
Hidden Pond is one of dozens of small, nameless-on-the-map waters scattered across the Saranac Lake region — five acres tucked into forest cover with no formal trail access and no stocking records. The name suggests local use rather than DEC designation, which usually means a property-line situation or a bushwhack-only approach known to a few families or hunting camps. Waters like this hold brook trout if they hold anything at all, but without access data or angling reports it's a placeholder on the list more than a destination. If you know the approach or the history, we'd welcome the detail.
Lost Pond is a 5-acre water in the Keene area — small enough that it sits off most trail maps and regional guides, and without recorded fish species data it's likely too shallow or too isolated to hold a fishable population. The name suggests it was once known, then forgotten — a pattern common to beaver ponds that shift in and out of existence, or to waters that served as landmarks for logging operations that have since grown over. If you know this pond, you likely found it by accident or by following a local's directions that started with "there's an old woods road..." Worth reporting back if you confirm access or find brookies.
Line Pond is a five-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on general recreation maps and remote enough that it doesn't draw casual traffic. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked, winterkill-prone, or simply unsampled. The pond sits in working forest land where access may be gated, seasonal, or subject to landowner permission — worth a call to the local DEC office in Ray Brook before planning a trip. If you do find open access, expect shallow water, beaver activity, and the kind of quiet that comes with ponds nobody's promoting.
Clear Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake George region — small enough that it doesn't draw crowds, large enough to feel like a destination if you're looking for stillwater away from the main lake corridor. No fish data on file, which often means either wild brookies that slip through DEC surveys or simply a pond that doesn't hold fish year-round; locals who know it will know which. The Lake George Wild Forest has dozens of these small ponds tucked into the hills — some accessed by old logging roads, some by bushwhack — and Clear Pond fits that pattern: a place you find because someone told you about it or because you're willing to poke around with a map.
Balsam Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to be off the radar for most anglers and paddlers, which is usually the point of a pond this size. No fish data on record, no designated campsites, no named peaks within striking distance — it reads more like a local reference point than a destination, the kind of water that shows up on a topo map but not in a guidebook. If you're looking for solitude and you know how to get there, it delivers. If you don't know how to get there, it's probably staying quiet.
Spring Pond is a five-acre backcountry water in the Saranac Lake Wild Forest — small enough that it doesn't anchor a trailhead or show up on most paddling itineraries, but real enough to warrant a name on the USGS quad. No fish stocking records and no maintained campsites, which means it's either a bushwhack destination or a quiet stop on a longer route between better-known waters. The size suggests it warms quickly in summer — more frog chorus than trout habitat. If you're looking for it, start with the DEC unit map and a compass bearing; this one doesn't advertise itself.
Mud Pond is five acres of shallow water in the Saranac Lake region — one of dozens of small ponds that carry the name across the Adirondack Park, most of them tucked into wetland corridors or low-lying drainages where beaver work and sediment keep the water warm and the bottom soft. No fish species on record here, which tracks for a pond this size and name: the shallow basin and organic substrate don't hold cold-water species, and the lack of public access or stocking history means it's been left to the frogs and herons. Worth knowing mainly as a cartographic footnote — if you're studying a Saranac Lake quad and see "Mud Pond" marked, this is the one.
Coldspring Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and quiet enough that most visitors to the area never register its name. No fish species on record, which typically means either it's too shallow to hold trout year-round or it's never been stocked and surveyed by DEC — common for ponds under ten acres in private or mixed-access watersheds. The name suggests a spring-fed source, and the "cold" prefix often correlates with clear water and a gravel or bedrock bottom. Worth confirming access status and ownership before planning a visit.
Cross Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it doesn't pull day-trippers off the Fulton Chain corridor, quiet enough that it holds the kind of stillness the bigger lakes traded away decades ago. No formal access or maintained trail on record, which usually means private shoreline or a bushwhack approach through working forestland — worth confirming ownership and access rights before heading in. The pond sits in the working forest between the tourist infrastructure of Old Forge and the true backcountry to the north and west, a category of water that exists more on old survey maps than in contemporary paddling guides. No fish species data on file, which isn't uncommon for small ponds outside the stocked rotation.
Triangle Pond is a five-acre pocket tucked into the Paradox Lake region — small enough to miss on most maps, remote enough that access details stay local knowledge. No fish stocking records on file, no established trail system, no lean-to — this is the kind of water that shows up as a blue dot between better-known destinations and stays that way. The Paradox Lake area runs quieter than the Lake George or Schroon corridors to the south, and Triangle Pond holds that pattern: if you know where the put-in is, you probably heard about it at a bar or from someone's grandfather. Worth confirming access and ownership before bushwhacking in.
Dwight Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that most paddlers blow past it on their way to bigger destinations, which is precisely its appeal. No official fish data on record, but ponds this size in the Fulton Chain corridor tend to hold panfish or the occasional stocked brook trout from years past. Access details are sparse, and without nearby trail listings or lean-tos it's likely tucked into private or semi-private land — worth a local inquiry at an Old Forge outfitter before loading the canoe. If you can get on it, you'll have it to yourself.
Hedgehog Pond is a five-acre pocket tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull a heavy recreation load, and remote enough that most paddlers stick to the bigger named waters in the corridor. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means natural brook trout if anything, or just a quiet swim spot for anyone willing to bushwhack in. The pond sits in that stretch of working forest and private inholdings between Long Lake village and the Nehasane preserve — more hunting camp territory than trailhead country. If you're looking for it, start by checking township tax maps and asking at the Long Lake town office.
Rockport Pond is a five-acre pocket of water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely lives in the shadow of larger nearby recreation destinations, quiet enough that it stays off most paddling itineraries. No fish species data on record suggests it's either unstocked or under-surveyed, which usually means limited angling pressure and the kind of solitude that comes from being functionally off-grid. The Paradox Lake area drains toward Lake Champlain and tends to be warmer, lower-elevation terrain than the High Peaks corridor — less granite, more mixed hardwood, more private land in the patchwork. Access details are sparse; check the DEC's interactive mapper or local knowledge in the town of Schroon before planning a visit.
Toothaker Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it rarely appears on general recreation maps, which usually means local knowledge and either private access or a bushwhack approach. No fish data on record, which tracks for waters this size in the central Adirondacks: too shallow to winter over trout, or stocked once decades ago and never again. The name suggests old settlement-era ties — Toothaker is a surname that shows up in 19th-century town records across the North Country. If you're chasing it down, start with the town clerk's office or the local historical society; ponds like this one live in the gap between official trail systems and hand-drawn camp maps.
Bloodsucker Pond — five acres somewhere in the Old Forge region — earns its name the hard way: small, shallow, weedy waters with minimal circulation are prime leeching habitat, and this one delivers. No fish stocking records, no trails on the official maps, and no nearby peaks to anchor it as a destination — it's the kind of pond that shows up as a blue dot on a topo map and stays that way. If you're bushwhacking through the area and stumble across it, you'll know it by the name alone. Wear gaiters.
Lilypad Pond is a five-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it lives up to its name by mid-July, when emergent vegetation claims much of the shoreline and surface. No fish species data on record, which for a pond this size in this terrain usually means seasonal oxygen issues or an inlet/outlet system that doesn't support a year-round population. The Paradox Lake corridor runs along the eastern edge of the park between Schroon Lake and Ticonderoga — less trafficked than the interior routes, more working forest than high-peaks drama. Worth a look if you're already in the area; otherwise it's a map dot, not a destination.
Dell Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational fishing maps and quiet enough that it holds its position as a local detour rather than a destination. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked and unpressured brookies or a shallow bowl that winters out. Access and ownership status vary widely for ponds this size in the Saranac Lake area; some are state forest land with old logging roads leading in, others are private or require a bushwhack from a larger trail system. If you're already in the area with a topo map and time to spare, it's worth a look — but call the local DEC office in Ray Brook first to confirm access.
Baker Pond is a five-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on regional recreation lists, but registered in the state's inventory and presumably tucked into one of the forested pockets between the village and the wider Lake Placid corridor. No fish species on record, no mapped trail access in the standard DEC directories — which often means either private shoreline or a bushwhack-only approach through working timberland. If you're chasing it down, start with the local DEC office in Ray Brook or ask at a Saranac Lake outfitter; they'll know whether it's worth the effort or just a seasonal wetland with a name.
Bullhead Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it doesn't register on most paddlers' radar, but that's precisely the appeal. No boat launch, no established DEC trail markers, no fish stocking records to chase: this is the kind of place you find by studying the topo and bushwhacking in with a light canoe or packraft. The water sits in second-growth forest a few miles from the more trafficked Bolton Landing corridor, quiet enough that you'll hear every woodpecker and beaver tail-slap. Bring your own access plan and expect to have the shoreline to yourself.
Whackers Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on standard lake surveys and anonymous enough that anglers pass it by for more documented fisheries. The name alone suggests old logging-era origins, likely a crew nickname that stuck when the maps were drawn. No fish data on file, no formal access noted, no established trails — this is the category of Adirondack pond that exists in the gap between recreational infrastructure and true bushwhacking, known mostly to hunters, trappers, and the occasional canoeist with good GPS and a tolerance for alder. If you're looking for it, start with the town clerk's office in Tupper Lake.
Mud Pond in Keene is a five-acre water tucked into the backcountry—small enough that it rarely shows up on casual itineraries but accessible enough that locals know it as a midday detour or a quiet spot when the high-traffic waters are overrun. No fish data on file, which usually means either the pond winters out or nobody's bothered to sample it in years. The name is literal: expect soft margins, beaver work, and the kind of shoreline that demands waterproof boots if you plan to get close. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious, but not a destination pond on its own.
Horseshoe Pond is a five-acre tuck in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, large enough to feel like a destination if you're willing to work for it. The name suggests a curved shoreline, the kind of pond that reads as a glacial scoop on the topo map, and the acreage puts it in that sweet spot between *pond* and *puddle* where brook trout might hold over if the water stays cold and deep enough. No fish data on file means either it's been overlooked by DEC survey crews or it's seasonal and marginal — a coin flip in this terrain. Check the Paradox Lake access points for the nearest trailhead leads.
Ash Pond is a small five-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of pond that exists more on the DEC inventory than in the typical paddler's rotation. No fish data on record, no trail register at a trailhead, no lean-to marked on the quad map. It sits in that broad middle ground between the named features tourists chase and the swampy patches locals pass on the way to bigger water — likely accessible by bushwhack or logging road if you're motivated, but the effort-to-reward calculus skews toward leaving it for the beavers. If you're chasing solitude for solitude's sake, this is the kind of place that delivers.
Albia Pond is a five-acre pocket of water in the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, secluded enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational lists. No fish data on file with DEC, which either means it hasn't been surveyed recently or it's been written off as marginal habitat. The pond sits in a transition zone where the southern Adirondacks soften into mixed hardwood valleys — less dramatic than the High Peaks corridor, but quieter by an order of magnitude. Worth confirming access status locally before making the drive; many small ponds in this drainage are landlocked or reach-limited.
Bullhead Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it won't show up on most highway-scale maps, typical of the dozens of named ponds scattered through the working forest and private holdings west of the Blue Line's denser recreational corridors. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system, no lean-tos — this is either private land or a spot that exists more as a named dot than a destination. If you're poking around Tupper Lake's back roads with a DeLorme and a canoe, Bullhead is the kind of place you'd bushwhack to for an hour of quiet water, but you'd confirm access and ownership before you go.
Copper Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Keene town limits — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps and remote enough that local knowledge is the primary access route. No fish species on record, which either means it hasn't been stocked or surveyed in recent decades, or that it's a shallow seasonal pond that doesn't hold trout through summer. The name suggests old mining activity in the watershed, though copper extraction in the eastern High Peaks was mostly exploratory and short-lived compared to the iron operations further south. Worth confirming access and condition with the town office or local outfitters before planning a trip.
Pitcher Pond is a five-acre pocket tucked into the Old Forge working forest — small enough that it reads more like a wide spot in a drainage than a named destination, but it holds water year-round and sits within the spiderweb of seasonal logging roads and footpaths that define the southern Adirondacks. No formal trail, no DEC signage, no stocking records — this is the kind of water you find by studying the quad map and bushwhacking in from the nearest two-track. The pond likely sees more moose traffic than human traffic, and if you do fish it, you're on your own for what's down there.
Dix Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Keene township — small enough that it doesn't anchor a trail system or pull weekend traffic, but it carries the name of one of the range's signature peaks. The pond sits in working forest land where access and use patterns shift with ownership and season; it's the kind of water that shows up on the DEC's official list but rarely in trip reports. No fish stocking records on file, no lean-tos, no designated campsites — this is map-and-compass country, not trailhead-to-destination hiking. If you're looking for Dix Mountain, you want the Round Pond / Slide Brook Lean-to trailhead off Route 73; Dix Pond is a different story entirely.
Gordon Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational fishing reports, which may explain the absence of stocking or survey data in the DEC records. Waters this size in the Tupper Lake wild forest tend to be either old beaver work or glacial holdouts tucked into low ridges, accessible by unmarked routes or private roads rather than marked state trails. Without confirmed access or fish species, Gordon Pond sits in that category of named waters that exist more as landmarks on the map than as destinations — though that's exactly the profile that sometimes yields brook trout if you can get to it. Worth a scouting mission if you're local and curious; otherwise, it's a placeholder until someone files a trip report.
Lake Margarite is a five-acre pond in the Old Forge area — small enough that the name "lake" feels generous, but part of the dense constellation of named waters that defines the western Adirondacks. No fish species on record, which in this region usually means it's either too shallow for reliable holdover or it's been off the stocking rotation long enough that institutional memory has faded. The pond sits in forest service land where access typically means either a carry-in from a seasonal road or a bushwhack from a better-known trail — worth confirming current access with the Old Forge Visitor Center before you load the canoe. If you're hunting quiet water within striking distance of Old Forge's services, Margarite is the kind of spot that rewards local knowledge and low expectations.
Goose Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational radar, but the kind of place that shows up in local knowledge and older USGS quads. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either naturally reproducing brookies in modest numbers or a pond that winters out and runs fishless. Access details are scarce in the standard trail databases; if you're hunting for it, start with the town assessor's parcel maps and be prepared for a bushwhack or an unmarked woods road. Old Forge has dozens of ponds in this size class — some are gems, some are beaver swamps with marginal access.
Beaver Pond is a five-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough that its name is more common than its particulars, and likely one of several Beaver Ponds scattered across the western Adirondacks where beavers did what beavers do. No fish species on record, which suggests either limited access, shallow water subject to winterkill, or simply that it hasn't turned up in DEC survey data. Without a known trail or public road access, this is most likely a paddle-in or bushwhack destination from a nearby flowage or maintained trail corridor. If you've been there, you know more than the official record does.
Beaver Pond is a five-acre water in the Lake George region — small enough to slip past most paddlers and anglers, but the kind of quiet pocket that rewards anyone willing to look beyond the big water and the busy corridors. No fish species data on file, which either means undersampled or marginal habitat; beaver activity (historic or active) tends to draw the name and shape the shoreline. The Lake George Wild Forest holds dozens of these smaller ponds, most of them accessed by bushwhack or unmarked paths rather than maintained trails. If you're hunting this one down, bring a compass and a topo — and don't expect a lean-to.
Sunset Pond is a small five-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of pond that appears on the DEC list but doesn't make it into the guidebooks, which usually means local knowledge and a bushwhack or unmaintained path. No fish data on record, no designated access, no nearby named peaks to anchor a description. If you're after it, you're likely working from a topo map and looking for a quiet morning with a canoe on your shoulders — or you're checking it off a completionist's list of named Adirondack waters.
Hog Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreation maps, and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means brookies if anything, or nothing at all. These minimal-access Old Forge ponds tend to be the domain of locals with canoes and a tolerance for bushwhacking — less a destination than a secret held by whoever knows the woods well enough to find it. If you're asking about access, you probably aren't going.
Carr Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on casual conversation lists but mapped and named, which means someone thought it worth distinguishing from the surrounding wetland. No fish data on file, no maintained trail infrastructure, no nearby summits to anchor a day hike — this is the kind of water that exists primarily as a dot on the DEC wetlands inventory and a name on the USGS quad. If you're looking for it, you're likely working a tight radius around Tupper Lake itself, or you're a canoeist threading through the Raquette River drainage and its feeder ponds. Expect bushwhacking, beaver activity, and solitude by default.
Mud Pond — five acres in the Tupper Lake township — is one of dozens of small, off-grid ponds scattered across the northwestern Adirondacks that exist primarily as topographic features rather than destinations. No fish stocking records, no formal trail, no shoreline development to speak of. These modest waters serve as navigation markers for hunters and timber cruisers, occasional moose habitat, and reminders that not every pond in the Park needs to justify itself with recreation value. If you're looking at Mud Pond on a map, you're likely lost or you know exactly why you're there.
Black Pond is a five-acre water in the Long Lake township — small enough that it likely sits off the main corridor, tucked into second- or third-growth forest without formal trail access or DEC signage. No fish species on record, which typically means either unstocked and unfished or too small to support a reliable population. Waters this size in the Long Lake area often require bushwhacking or old logging roads to reach, and without nearby peaks or documented campsites, this one lives in the category of ponds you find by accident or by studying the topo. If you're after solitude and don't mind a compass bearing, that's the appeal.
Mud Pond is a 5-acre water in the Speculator area — small enough that it reads more like a wetland punctuation mark than a destination, and it likely lives up to its name. No fish species on record, no nearby peaks to anchor it in the hiking network, and no developed access or designated camping in the immediate vicinity. These kinds of ponds typically serve as brook trout nursery habitat or seasonal waterfowl staging areas rather than recreation sites. If you're poking around Speculator's backroads or paddling the connected watershed, it's worth a look from the shoreline — but don't expect a put-in or a trail register.
Doe Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it sits below the threshold where most anglers and paddlers register a mental bookmark. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail designation, no lean-to — the kind of water that shows up on the USGS quad but rarely in trip reports. It's either private, hard-access, or both, which in the Old Forge corridor usually means logging-road approaches or a put-in that requires asking permission. If you're counting named waters for completeness, it's here; if you're planning a weekend, look elsewhere.
Buckhorn Ponds — plural, though the four acres read as a single shallow basin — sit in the working forest south of Speculator, far enough off the main corridors that most visitors arrive by accident or local knowledge. The ponds drain northeast toward the Sacandaga drainage, tucked into second-growth mixed hardwoods with no formal trail access and no DEC fish stocking records. This is quiet-water territory: beaver activity, seasonal waterfowl, and the kind of marshy shoreline that keeps casual foot traffic to a minimum. Worth knowing about if you're already in the area with a canoe and a good map.
East Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it registers as a navigational marker more than a destination, the kind of pond that shows up on topo maps but rarely in trip reports. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies in low density or a shallow basin that winters out every few decades. Access details are sparse, but most ponds this size in the Old Forge corridor are either roadside pull-offs or short bushwhacks from nearby trail systems. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe on the truck and an hour to kill.
