Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
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.
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.
Bullpout Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake country — small enough to miss on a map, named for the bottom-feeding catfish that likely gave early anglers more trouble than table fare. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and hemlock cover typical of the eastern Adirondacks, where the terrain softens between the High Peaks and Lake Champlain valley. No maintained trail, no DEC designation, no stocking records — this is the kind of water that stays quiet because it offers solitude more than scenery or sport fish. Worth knowing if you're working the Paradox drainage or looking for a bushwhack objective that won't show up on anyone's weekend itinerary.
Pocket Ponds — plural, though often mapped as singular — is a small, roadside water just outside Old Forge, more of a wetland complex than a defined pond shore. The five-acre system sits in second-growth forest typical of the western Adirondacks, accessible but largely overlooked by paddlers headed to the Fulton Chain or Fourth Lake. No fish stocking records and no established trails — this is the kind of quiet, marginal water that gets used by locals who know where to pull off and slip a canoe in. Worth a look if you're camping nearby and want an hour of solitude before the lake traffic starts.
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.
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.
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.
Little Clear Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational lake lists, quiet enough that it stays off the summer paddling circuit. No fish data on file, which either means it doesn't hold fish or no one's bothered to file a survey report. These small named ponds tend to be local spots — swimming access, foot-launch canoe water, or just a place that needed a name on the map. Check the DEC's latest Saranac Lake Wild Forest map for access points if you're curious.
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.
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.
Giant's Washbowl is a five-acre cirque pond perched high on the southern flank of Giant Mountain — a tarn in the literal sense, scooped out by glacial action and fed by runoff from the summit ridge above. The hike in is steep and sustained, gaining roughly 1,500 vertical feet from the trailhead, and the pond itself sits in a dramatic alpine bowl with cliffs rising on three sides. No fish on record, and the water stays cold well into July. This is a destination hike, not a pass-through — most parties turn around at the Washbowl or continue the push to Giant's summit if they're already committed to the elevation.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Fishpole Pond is a five-acre water tucked into the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational checklists, which is often the point. The name suggests angling history, but there's no current fish species data on record, and no formal DEC stocking reports in recent years. These off-the-radar ponds tend to be either walk-in access with minimal signage or surrounded by private land with informal local use — worth confirming access before you bushwhack. If it's open water, expect shallow depth, warm summer temps, and the kind of quiet that comes from being too small to paddle and too obscure to promote.
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.
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.
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.
Hiawatha Lake is a five-acre pond tucked into the Old Forge network — small enough that it doesn't show up on most regional itineraries, but accessible enough that locals know it as a quiet paddle or a winter skating spot when conditions hold. The water sits in second-growth forest typical of the working woodland west of the Fulton Chain, without the dramatic relief or named-peak context of the High Peaks corridor. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means either light stocking history or a pond that winters hard and doesn't hold trout reliably. Worth a look if you're based in Old Forge and want something off the main lake traffic — but verify access and parking locally before you load the canoe.
Johns Pond is a five-acre pond in the Old Forge area — small enough that it lives in the shadow of the bigger-name waters that define the Fulton Chain corridor, and specific enough in its access and history that without confirmed details it's better left as a named dot on the map than a paragraph of guesswork. What's certain: it's on record, it's five acres, and it's in Old Forge territory, which means it sits somewhere in the network of ponds, bogs, and connector streams that radiate out from the Moose River Plains and the western edge of the park. If you know it, you know it — and if you're looking for it, start with the local DEC office or a good topo map.
Otter Pond is a five-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that most paddlers will circle it in twenty minutes, and quiet enough that most won't bother. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means brook trout were stocked decades ago and either didn't hold or nobody's bothered to record a catch since. The name suggests beaver activity at some point, though whether current or historical depends on which drainage cycle you catch it in. Worth a stop if you're already in the area with a canoe strapped to the roof, but not a destination pond on its own.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Three Ponds sits in the Great Sacandaga Lake watershed — a 5-acre pocket water that shows up on the USGS quad but not in many fishing reports or trail guides. The name suggests a cluster or a seasonal split, though whether you'll find one pond or three depends on water levels and how you count the connecting shallows. No fish stocking records and no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike — this is lowland Adirondack water, the kind that exists for local knowledge and bushwhacking curiosity more than for trailhead planning. If you're on the Sacandaga and looking for stillwater off the main lake, you'll need a local map and a willingness to explore without much beta.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Little Cherrypatch Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it likely holds brook trout if it holds fish at all, though DEC records show no survey data and no stocking history. The name suggests old logging-era nomenclature, the kind of water that shows up on USGS quads but not in guidebooks. Without documented access or a maintained trailhead, this is either private, bushwhack-only, or both — worth confirming ownership and approach before planning a visit.
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.
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.
Racquette River — listed here as a 4-acre pond near Tupper Lake — is almost certainly a slack-water section or oxbow along the larger Racquette River system, which drains north from Blue Mountain Lake through Long Lake, Tupper Lake, and onward to the St. Regis watershed. The Racquette proper is a classic Adirondack paddle route with dozens of access points, lean-tos, and carry trails; this particular pond-sized segment may be a quiet eddy or upstream impoundment worth locating on a USGS quad if you're threading together multi-day river trips. No fish data on record, but the main Racquette holds northern pike, smallmouth bass, and yellow perch through most of its length. Check DEC access site listings for Tupper Lake or consult a paddling guidebook to pin down which stretch this refers to.
Secret Pond lives up to its name — a four-acre pocket of water tucked into the Keene backcountry with no formal trail, no lean-to, and no fish stocking on record. It's the kind of place that shows up on the DEC database but not in any guidebook, accessed by bushwhack or local knowledge and left alone by the crowds that fill the Route 73 corridor a few miles west. No species data means either no one's fishing it or no one's reporting — both possibilities track for a pond this size and this quiet. If you're here, you probably already know why.
Spring Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sits tucked in second-growth forest or off a seasonal-use road, the kind of pond that appears on a topo map but rarely in conversation. No fish stocking records and no nearby named peaks means this is either a local spot with a dirt-road approach or a bushwhack destination for someone with a specific reason to be there. Worth checking DEC mapping or local knowledge in Tupper Lake if you're chasing down every named water in a township — but this one won't be in the guidebooks.
Little Fish Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of place that shows up on a topo map but rarely in conversation. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trails leading in, no lean-tos or established campsites to anchor it as a destination. It's backcountry by default rather than design: if you're planning to fish it or camp it, you're navigating by compass and USGS quad, not by trailhead signage. Worth knowing it exists if you're the type who likes to put a name to every water you cross.
Military Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Long Lake township — small enough that it shows up on few maps and draws almost no traffic beyond snowmobilers and locals who know the unmarked woods roads in. No public access point to speak of, no trail register, no fish stocking records in the DEC files. It sits in the working forest between Long Lake village and the bigger named waters to the north — functional Adirondack backcountry, not a destination. If you're here, you either own land nearby or you took a wrong turn.
Moses Kill is a 4-acre pond in the Lake George region — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps, and remote enough that access details are effectively local knowledge. The name suggests old settlement-era surveying or logging activity (a "kill" being Dutch for creek or channel), though no formal trail or DEC campsite is associated with the water today. Without documented fish data or maintained access, this is the kind of pond that shows up in deed descriptions and on USGS quads but rarely sees intentional visitors. If you're headed there, you're likely bushwhacking or you already know the owner.
Lillypad Pond is a 4-acre pocket water in the Keene backcountry — small enough that it likely lives up to its name by midsummer, when emergent vegetation claims the shallows and the open water shrinks to a center channel. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either the pond winters out (freezes to the bottom, killing fish) or it was never stocked and lacks inlet flow robust enough to support natural reproduction. Worth checking local trail registers or the DEC Region 5 office in Ray Brook for access details — ponds this size in the Keene area are often reached by unmarked footpaths or old logging roads rather than maintained trailheads.
Poker Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it reads more like a widening in a wetland corridor than a destination pond. No official fish survey data on record, and no marked trail appears on DEC maps, which suggests either informal local access or a bushwhack approach through private or state land that hasn't drawn enough traffic to warrant infrastructure. The name likely predates the Wild Forest designation — gaming references show up often in 19th-century Adirondack toponomy, though the story behind this one hasn't surfaced in regional historical records. Worth confirming access legality before heading in.
Drew Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it doesn't anchor a trail system or pull weekend traffic, but large enough to hold a morning's worth of quiet if you're camped or cabined nearby. No fish species on record, no formal access infrastructure, no nearby peaks to use as reference points — it's the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map but not in most guidebooks. If you know where it is, you likely own land adjacent or you're bushwhacking with intent. Worth confirming access and ownership before you go.
Evies Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it likely exists as a local reference point or a pass-through on someone's canoe route rather than a destination in its own right. No fish stocking records on file, which in Old Forge's web of ponds and channels usually means it's either too shallow for winter survival or simply off the recreational radar. The name suggests private or historic use — possibly tied to an old camp or family holding — but without public access or trail infrastructure, it's the kind of water that stays local knowledge. If you're poking around Old Forge's backcountry by boat, you'll know it when you see it.
Hopsicker Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Old Forge basin — the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC list but not on most people's radar. No fish data on file, no established trails noted in the standard references, no lean-tos or designated campsites. It's likely a bushwhack-only access or a local secret tucked into the working forest around the Moose River Plains — worth knowing it exists if you're studying the Old Forge watershed, but not a destination unless you're already in the neighborhood with a canoe and a willingness to navigate off-trail.
Dipper Pond is a four-acre pocket of water in the Brant Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and quiet enough that most paddlers in the area never hear about it. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail infrastructure, no DEC campsite designations — it reads as private or functionally inaccessible to the general public. These micro-ponds scattered through the southern Adirondacks often sit on private forestland or require bushwhacking through thick second-growth to reach. If you're researching Dipper Pond for a trip, confirm access and ownership before you go.
Lone Pond is a 4-acre pocket tucked somewhere in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it likely doesn't pull crowds, remote enough that it hasn't made it onto the standard fishing survey rotations. The name suggests isolation, and in the Raquette drainage that usually means old logging roads, blown-down blowdown, and a put-in that requires either a good map or a willingness to bushwhack. No fish species on record means either it doesn't hold fish or no one's reported catching them — both common in the smaller, shallower ponds that dot the interior. If you're heading that way, bring a topo and plan for solitude.
Lone Duck Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull recreational traffic, but named and mapped, which means it exists in the local geography as a known thing rather than a nameless wetland. No fish data on file, and at four acres it's more likely a seasonal brook trout holdover than a stocked destination. The name suggests either a lone-duck sighting that stuck in someone's memory, or the dry Adirondack humor that names half the ponds in the Park. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake backcountry and you find it, you've earned it.
Round Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it rarely draws a crowd, large enough that it holds its own character instead of reading as a roadside pool. No fish data on record, which usually means either marginal habitat or just unmapped rather than unfishable; worth a cast if you're passing through with a rod. The pond sits in the working forest west of the Fulton Chain, where public and private parcels checker the landscape and access can shift with timber company policy — confirm current status with the Old Forge Visitor Center before planning a trip. Best treated as a bushwhack or local-knowledge destination rather than a trailhead objective.
Coonrod Pond is a four-acre pocket of water in the town of Keene — small enough that it lives below the radar of most paddlers and anglers, and quiet enough that if you know where it is, you're probably keeping it that way. No fish stocking records, no formal access points advertised, no trail register to sign. These kinds of ponds tend to sit on private land or require bushwhacking through mixed hardwood and wetland edges, which means they stay off the weekend rotation and hold onto their solitude. If you're hunting stillwater that doesn't show up on every hiking app, start with the town tax maps.
