Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Marsh Pond is a 3-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it lives up to its name, likely rimmed with wetland vegetation and shallow enough to warm quickly in summer. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either marginal habitat or a pond that simply fell off the DEC rotation decades ago. Waters this size in the Tupper area often sit tucked between private parcels or logging roads, accessible but not advertised. If you're poking around dirt roads south or west of town and stumble onto it, expect lily pads, dragonflies, and the kind of quiet that comes with being too small to bother naming on most maps.
Lost Pond — three acres, somewhere in the sprawl of state land around Indian Lake — exists in the kind of cartographic limbo that defines a lot of small Adirondack water: named on the quad, no formal trail, no fish stocking records, no DEC campsite designation. It's the sort of place that gets visited by hunters in November, old-timers who grew up nearby, and the occasional wanderer with a USGS map and a compass who doesn't mind bushwhacking. Without nearby peaks or designated access, Lost Pond stays quiet by default — a dot on the map that rewards the effort only if you're already out there for other reasons.
Bens Pond is a three-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely holds more interest for the landowner or the local who knows how to reach it than for the through-hiker or the touring paddler. No fish species on record, no nearby trail infrastructure in the public datasets, which usually means private land or a walk-in from a seasonal road that doesn't show up on the DEC map. These small ponds scatter across the northern Adirondacks by the hundreds — some eventually open to public access, most stay quiet. If you're headed to Tupper Lake for Raquette River paddling or Rock Pond trail access, Bens Pond stays off the list unless you know someone with a key.
Cellar Pond is a 3-acre pocket in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. No fish data on record, which usually means either it winters out hard or nobody's bothered to stock it in recent memory. The name suggests old logging or settlement history — cellar holes and stone foundations are common throughout this part of the central Adirondacks, remnants of 19th-century clearing that's since grown back to second-growth hardwood. Worth investigating if you're already deep in the Raquette Lake backcountry and collecting small waters; otherwise, this one stays quiet by design.
Black Pond is a 3-acre pocket water in the Lake George region — small enough that it rarely appears on trail maps, but named and on the record. No fish stocking data, no designated campsites, no trailhead signage pointing you there. Ponds this size in the Lake George Wild Forest tend to be walk-in affairs: old logging roads, unmarked paths, or bushwhacks from better-known corridors. If you're heading in, bring a topo and don't expect company.
Densmore Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Brant Lake area — small enough that it won't appear on most road atlases, but real enough to carry a name and hold water year-round. No fish stocking records, no designated access, no formal trail — this is the kind of pond that exists in the margins between private land and state forest, more likely encountered by accident than intention. If you're poking around the woods between Brant Lake and Schroon Lake with a good topo map, Densmore is a reference point, not a destination. Bring a compass and realistic expectations.
Schley Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreation maps and quiet enough that it holds its own logic in a township defined by bigger water and boat traffic. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail system documented, no lean-to within shouting distance. It's the kind of pond that exists more as a map dot than a destination — worth knowing about if you're already in the area and curious, but not the reason you drive to Raquette Lake. Best approached as a bushwhack objective or a incidental stop if you're poking around the drainage between the bigger named waters.
Kelley Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, and in this part of the Park, that's saying something. No fish data on record, which likely means it's either too shallow for reliable trout habitat or simply under-surveyed; either way, it's not a fishing destination. Old Forge sprawls across a network of ponds, inlets, and carry trails, and waters this size tend to serve as quiet paddle-outs or swim spots for locals who know the access. If you're looking for it, start with town records or the Old Forge visitor center — this one doesn't advertise itself.
Woodwardia Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge town — the kind of small pond that appears on the topo map but doesn't pull weekend crowds or make the guidebook circuit. No fish stocking records and no established trail infrastructure means this is local knowledge territory: likely accessed by bushwhack or old logging trace, and likely holding whatever wild brookies or sunfish colonized it decades ago. The name suggests ferns — *Woodwardia* is a genus of chain fern common in Adirondack wetlands — which often signals a boggy shoreline and shallow basin. Worth scouting if you're already in the Old Forge backcountry with a canoe and a taste for exploration.
Round Pond is a three-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely doesn't register on most trail maps, and without fish stocking records or designated access, it sits in that liminal category of named waters that exist more on paper than in practice. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake area are often old beaver work or kettle depressions left by glacial melt, ringed by black spruce and tamarack, accessible only by bushwhack or private land. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and ownership first — the Tupper Lake Wild Forest has plenty of legitimate destinations, and a three-acre pond without a trail is usually three acres for a reason.
McCabe Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps, which usually means either private land or a seasonal wetland tucked into working forest. No fish species on record, no marked trail access, no public camping infrastructure. Waters this size in the Old Forge corridor tend to be headwater feeders or beaver-modified drainages rather than destinations — worth noting if you're studying watershed connections or doing wetland survey work, but not a place you'll find a put-in or a campsite.
Bullhead Pond is a three-acre water tucked into the southern Adirondacks near the Great Sacandaga Lake — small enough that it doesn't register on most paddlers' radars, which is half the appeal. No fish data on record, no maintained trails advertised, no lean-tos — this is the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC wetlands inventory and gets visited by locals who know the woods or by hunters glassing for sign in October. The Sacandaga corridor holds dozens of ponds like this: unmapped access, shallow water, worth the bushwhack if you're already in the neighborhood. Bring a compass and don't expect company.
Beaver Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Long Lake township — small enough that it likely sees more moose traffic than paddler traffic, and remote enough that its fish population (if any) has gone unrecorded by DEC surveys. The name suggests what you'd expect: active beaver work, fluctuating water levels, and a shoreline that shifts with the dam's integrity. Without nearby trailheads or peaks to anchor it, this is the kind of pond you stumble onto while bushwhacking or studying a topo map for something quiet. If you're after solitude and don't need a stocked fishery or a marked trail, it'll deliver.
Church Pond is a three-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar, and remote enough that access details are scarce in the public record. No fish stocking data on file, no marked trailheads in the immediate vicinity, no DEC campsites cataloged at the shore. These are the ponds that fill the gaps between the named trails and the tourist corridors — worth knowing exist, but you'll need a topo map and a willingness to bushwhack if you want to stand at the water's edge.
Rogers Pond is a three-acre pocket water in Keene — small enough that you could walk its perimeter in ten minutes, the kind of pond that gets left off most trail maps and doesn't generate its own trailhead parking. No fish data on record, no established campsites, no signage pointing you in — it exists in that middle category of Adirondack water that serves mostly as a landmark for locals or a surprise discovery on a bushwhack between more documented destinations. If you're looking for brook trout or a designated lean-to, keep moving; if you want a quiet lunch spot off someone else's itinerary, Rogers delivers exactly that.
Long Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Blue Mountain Lake township — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational planning, quiet enough that it stays off the casual paddler's radar. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means limited angling pressure and limited stocking history; worth a speculative cast if you're already in the area, but not a destination fishery. The pond sits in rolling mixed forest typical of the central Adirondacks — no dramatic relief, no named peaks within sight lines, no maintained trail infrastructure leading to the shore. Access details aren't documented in the standard guidebooks, which means either private land complications or unmapped Woods Department routes from an earlier era.
Franks Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — small enough that it likely holds more appeal for a canoe paddle or a quiet morning than for any particular fishing or through-hiking objective. No species data on record, which usually means either unstocked and marginal habitat or simply off the radar for DEC survey work. These small ponds in the southern Adirondacks often sit on private land or lack formal access, so confirm ownership and entry before planning a trip. Worth a look if you're already in the area and chasing solitude over infrastructure.
White Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it likely sits tucked in second-growth forest off a seasonal-use road or behind private land, the kind of spot that shows up on the DEC gazetteer but doesn't pull paddlers off the Fulton Chain. No fish species data on record suggests it's either unstocked, too shallow for winter survival, or simply too far from the access infrastructure that generates creel surveys. Without public trail or launch intel, this one lives in the "know a guy who knows the landowner" category — common in the Old Forge working forest, where ponds this size number in the dozens and most never make it onto a trip itinerary. If you're poking around the back roads near the Moose River Plains with a canoe and a topo map, it's worth a look.
Honey Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it doesn't pull much attention, which may be exactly its appeal. No fish records on file, no marked trails, no camping infrastructure — the kind of pond that exists on the map but lives in that gray zone between public access and practical obscurity. If you're poking around the backroads near Paradox Lake and spot it, you're likely looking at a bushwhack or private land question. Worth a call to the Ray Brook DEC office before you commit to finding it.
Nesbit Pond is a three-acre puddle in the Keene town limits — small enough that it likely doesn't hold much beyond the occasional brook trout, if that, and obscure enough that it doesn't show up on most hiking itineraries or DEC stocking records. The name suggests old surveyor's marks or a family parcel from the 19th century, but without maintained trail access or a known put-in, it's functionally off-grid. If you're counting ponds for completionist purposes or chasing property-line curiosities, Nesbit qualifies; otherwise, it's a dot on the topo map and not much more.
North Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it likely stays off most paddlers' radar, though that's often the appeal of these sub-five-acre ponds tucked into the southern Adirondacks. No fish data on record, which either means it hasn't been surveyed in decades or it's too shallow and seasonal to hold trout through the summer. Without trail or access specifics to confirm, this is the kind of water that shows up on the topo map but may require local knowledge or a bushwhack to reach — worth a query at the Indian Lake town offices or the Hamilton County tourism desk if you're scouting new territory.
The Old Fly is a three-acre pocket pond in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that most paddlers blow past it without a second look, but the name alone suggests old-time use, likely tied to brook trout fishing before the area was logged over. No formal access or maintained trail on record; reaching it means bushwhacking or following informal hunter paths through second-growth hardwoods. The pond sits in the kind of low-ridge terrain that defines the southern Adirondacks — not dramatic, not remote, but quiet in a way that feels earned. No fish data on file, which usually means either nothing or small wild brookies that haven't been surveyed in decades.
Mud Pond — three acres in the Raquette Lake township, tucked into the kind of drainage that earned its name honestly. No fish stocking records, no trail register, no DEC campsite: this is map-and-compass water for paddlers working the network of ponds and wetlands that lace the woods between the bigger named waters in the Raquette drainage. The shallows warm early, the bottom is soft, and by mid-July the lily pads claim most of the surface — classic beaver country, worth a look if you're already back there, but not a destination pond on its own.
Vandenburg Pond is a three-acre tuck in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it never made the stocking rotation and quiet enough that most paddlers cruise past without noticing. No formal trail designation on current DEC maps, which means access is either a bushwhack or a local's line that hasn't been formalized. These micro-ponds in the Lake George region tend to hold pickerel or resident brook trout if the inlet stays cold through July, but without stocking records or angler reports, it's a roll of the dice. Worth checking the Wild Forest unit map for access corridors if you're already in the area with a light canoe and a tolerance for overgrown approaches.
Warren Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it doesn't anchor a trail system or pull crowds, but named and mapped all the same. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means it's either too shallow to winter trout or it's been off the DEC radar for decades. The acreage puts it in that middle category: not a vernal pool, not a destination — more likely a put-in spot for a canoe if you know the access, or a landmark you pass on the way to something else. Worth confirming access status before hauling gear; many small named ponds in the region sit on private land or require permission.
Clifton Iron Mine pond is a 3-acre water tucked into the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it won't appear on most road maps, and named for the 19th-century iron operations that left their mark across this corner of the Park. No fish stocking records and no formal access infrastructure mean this is a bushwhack or local-knowledge proposition, not a day-hike destination. If you're working the northern Tupper backcountry and come across it, it's worth a look for the industrial archaeology context — iron mining shaped the settlement patterns and timber economy here long before the state bought the land back. Expect a quiet, off-trail water with more historical interest than recreational infrastructure.
Bradt's Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — small enough that it likely gets more attention from local landowners than through-hikers or anglers working a list. No fish stocking records on file, and at that size it's either hold-over brookies or bass that wandered upstream during high water, if anything at all. The name suggests old settler lineage, probably tied to one of the farm families that worked the bottomlands before the Sacandaga Reservoir flooded the valley in 1930. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious about the micro-drainages that feed the big lake.
Lake Margaret is a three-acre pond in the Saranac Lake area — small enough that "pond" is the more honest label, but it carries the lake name on the maps. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either too shallow for consistent trout stocking or it's never been surveyed by DEC — both scenarios common in the smaller named waters scattered through the central Adirondacks. Without specific access or usage patterns documented, this one likely falls into the category of local-knowledge water: known to nearby residents, passable but not maintained for public recreation, and worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe and a taste for exploration.
Warden Pond is a 3-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and likely named for a long-gone fire warden or lumber-era surveyor. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either natural brook trout recruitment from feeder streams or nothing at all; ponds this size can flip either way depending on winter oxygen and inlet flow. The absence of nearby peaks or formal trail listings suggests this is working-forest or private-inholding territory rather than DEC recreation land. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake backcountry and stumble on it, check property boundaries before you wet a line.
Grassy Ponds is a 3-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose traffic than paddler traffic, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. No fish species data on file, which suggests either genuine absence or a pond that gets checked once a decade by DEC survey crews. The name telegraphs the shoreline: expect emergent grasses, shallow margins, and the kind of wetland structure that makes for difficult put-ins and excellent wildlife watching if you're willing to bushwhack or probe for an access point. This is habitat water, not destination water.
Footes Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational radar, and remote enough that access details stay local knowledge. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies or none at all; ponds this size in the southern Adirondacks tend to go one way or the other depending on winterkill and inlet flow. The Great Sacandaga corridor is better known for its reservoir shoreline and snowmobile routes than for backcountry ponds, so Footes lives in that quiet category of waters you find by asking at the general store. Worth a knock on the door if you're in the area with a canoe.
Water Hazard 7/8 is a three-acre pond in Keene with a name that suggests golf course origin — likely part of a private development or resort property rather than wild forest land. No public access information or fishery data on file, which typically means private ownership or landlocked placement within a larger parcel. These numbered "water hazard" ponds appear in DEC records but rarely show up on hiking maps or in paddling guides. If you're looking for public water in Keene proper, head to Styles Brook or the Ausable River branches instead.
Lost Pond — three acres, Keene — is one of dozens of small named waters in the northern Adirondacks that exist more as cartographic notation than destination. No documented fishery, no established trail system, no camping infrastructure. These ponds typically sit in second-growth mixed forest between the highway corridors and the High Peaks proper, accessible by bushwhack or old logging trace if you're inclined to find them. Worth knowing the name exists if you're studying a topo map; not worth banking a day trip on unless you're the sort who enjoys the hunt more than the arrival.
Goosepuddle Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake drainage — the kind of small pond that appears on USGS maps but rarely shows up in fishing reports or trail guides. No formal trail access on record, no designated campsites, no fish stocking data in the DEC database — which means it's either spring-fed and fishless, or it's holding native brookies that see almost no pressure. The name alone (Goosepuddle) suggests either old logging-camp humor or a seasonal wetland character that keeps most paddlers pointed toward Paradox Lake proper. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a canoe and a taste for bushwhacking, but set expectations accordingly.
Scott Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. No fish stocking records, no maintained trail reports, no DEC campsite designations — it's the kind of water that exists as a blue dot on the map and little else. If you're hunting for solitude or checking off every named water in a township, Scott Pond delivers; if you're looking for a destination swim or a trout fishery, keep driving. Verify access and ownership before bushwhacking in.
North Pond is a 3-acre pocket of water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational paddling lists, and no fish species data on file with DEC. Waters this size in the central Adirondacks often sit on private land or lack formal access, which keeps them off the trail map but doesn't mean they're not there. If you're poking around Old Forge back roads and spot it, assume posted unless marked otherwise. No peaks nearby, no stocked brookies — just a dot on the USGS quad.
Blue Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it likely doesn't pull much fishing pressure, and the lack of species data suggests it's either minimally stocked or holding wild brookies that haven't made it into DEC surveys. Waters this size in the Old Forge corridor often sit tucked between larger destinations, serving more as a waypoint or a quiet paddle than a headline stop. Without curated access details on record, this one may be private-adjacent or bushwhack-only — worth confirming land status and parking before you commit to finding it.
Bill's Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — small enough that it won't appear on most recreation maps, and likely private or landlocked given the absence of DEC fish stocking records or documented public access. These minor named waters often show up in historical survey records or old USGS quads but lack the trail infrastructure or shoreline easements that make a pond functionally accessible to the public. Without fish data or nearby trailheads, this one reads as a cartographic footnote rather than a paddling or fishing destination. If you're hunting small water in the Speculator area, start with the stocked ponds along NY-8 or NY-30 — public access is documented and the brookies are real.
Upper Dam Pond is a three-acre water in the Indian Lake township — small enough that it likely lives in the margin between named feature and local reference point. No fish species on record, no nearby peaks, no formal trailheads in the immediate catalog: this is either private, landlocked by surrounding parcels, or tucked into working forestland where access follows old logging roads rather than marked DEC trails. The name suggests historical infrastructure — a dam, a flowage, possibly tied to 19th-century timber operations when every creek in the central Adirondacks had a sluice or splash dam. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or a check of the DEC Region 5 Warrensburg office if you're chasing it down.
Deer Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — small enough that it likely functions more as a wetland complex than a destination pond, and remote enough that access details don't circulate in the usual trailhead chatter. No fish stocking records on file, which is typical for ponds this size in the southern Adirondacks: they're either marginal habitat or they're holding wild brook trout that nobody's officially counting. If you're in the area and hunting for solitude, ponds like this one reward the map-and-compass work — but verify access and bring boots that can handle soft ground.
Mud Pond is a 3-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it won't appear on most recreational maps, and typical of the dozens of unnamed or lightly-named ponds that dot the lowland corridors between the High Peaks drainages. No fish stocking records, no formal trail access, no DEC campsites — this is either private, landlocked by posted parcels, or tucked into a wetland complex where the shoreline is more alder thicket than open water. If you're looking for a swimmable or fishable Mud Pond in the Lake Placid area, you're likely thinking of a different water with better road or trail access.
Corner Pond is a three-acre pocket tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough that it won't appear on most road atlases and remote enough that casual access information is scarce. No fish species data on file, which in the deeper backcountry often means either unstocked or unsampled rather than barren; brook trout move into these small waters opportunistically after high-water years. The name suggests either a surveyor's landmark or a position relative to a larger water or property line — context that's gone quiet in the local record. Worth asking at the Long Lake town office or the local DEC if you're serious about finding it.
Panther Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — small enough that it likely holds more interest as a bushwhack objective or a corner-of-the-map curiosity than as a destination for fishing or paddling. No fish species data on record, which for a pond this size often means seasonal oxygen depletion or intermittent winterkill. The name suggests old wildcatter history or a trapper's reference, but without maintained trail access or lean-to infrastructure, this one stays off most recreational itineraries. If you're poking around the backroads south or west of Speculator with a topo map and time to spare, it's there — but expect shallow water and dense shoreline.
Mud Pond — three acres in the Lake George Wild Forest — is one of those small, unnamed-on-most-maps wetlands that dot the region's mid-elevation forests. No fish stocking records, no trail register, no lean-to: it's the kind of water you find by accident on a bushwhack or notice from a ridgeline while heading somewhere else. The name tells you what to expect — shallow, marshy shoreline, likely beaver activity, and better suited to spotting wood ducks or a moose track than planning a fishing trip. If you're looking for solitude and don't mind wet boots, ponds like this deliver exactly that.
Mud Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it likely sits off the main trail corridors and sees more moose than paddlers. No fish species on record, which usually means shallow, weedy margins and seasonal draw-down, the kind of pond that warms early and freezes late. These tiny waters are common throughout the southern Adirondacks: navigation markers for bushwhackers, beaver habitat, and the occasional surprise brook trout holdover if there's spring flow. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a topo map and time to explore.
Twin Pond is a three-acre pond in the Keene town footprint — small enough that it doesn't carry the recreational or access infrastructure of the region's better-known waters, and remote enough that it holds to itself. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either no stocking history or catch reports too thin to register. The name suggests a paired-pond system, common in the Park's glacial hollows, though whether the twin is still mapped or has since silted into wetland is unclear from the survey records. If you're heading this direction, confirm access and current conditions locally — ponds this size can shift from open water to beaver meadow in a single heavy flow year.
Bullhead Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge area — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, remote enough that most paddlers skip it for bigger options on the Fulton Chain or further into the Five Ponds Wilderness. No fish species data on file, which usually means limited stocking history and minimal angling pressure, though small Adirondack ponds like this often hold remnant brook trout populations or get overlooked in DEC surveys. Access details are sparse in the regional trail literature; if you're hunting it down, expect either a bushwhack or an unmarked woods road approach typical of the working-forest ponds west of Old Forge.
Pickerel Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Lake George Wild Forest — small enough that it rarely shows up on regional maps and quiet enough that it stays that way. The name suggests brook trout or native pickerel at some point in its history, but no recent stocking or survey data appears in DEC records, and the pond's size and elevation make it marginal habitat for anything but resident brookies if the dissolved oxygen holds through winter. Access details are scarce; if you're heading in, expect bushwhacking or an unmaintained footpath, and plan accordingly. Worth a look if you're working the Wild Forest corridors south of Bolton and comfortable navigating by topo.
Brady Pond is a three-acre water in the Blue Mountain Lake township — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational maps and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records on file, no trail register, no lean-to — the kind of pond that exists more as a cartographic dot than a destination, though local paddlers and hunters know where it sits. Waters this size in the central Adirondacks often serve as wildlife corridor anchors: beaver, otter, wood duck nesting boxes if the shoreline allows it. If you're looking for it, start with the USGS quad and a conversation at the Blue Mountain Outfitters counter.
Coffee Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than paddlers, and remote enough that it doesn't show up on most recreation maps. No fish data on record, which usually means either wild brook trout that no one's bothered to survey or a shallow basin that winterkills. The name suggests an old logging camp or a trapper's nickname; ponds this size in the central Adirondacks tend to be remnants of 19th-century backcountry geography that never made it into the hiking-guide economy. Worth investigating if you're already in the area with a topo map and a willingness to bushwhack.
Mikes Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it likely sees more use from whoever owns the nearest camp than from the paddling public. No fish species on record, no nearby peaks, no formal access noted in state records — the kind of named water that exists more as a property landmark than a recreation destination. In a region dense with larger, road-accessible ponds (Fourth Lake is two miles west, the Fulton Chain stretches north), Mikes Pond holds its obscurity honestly. If you're on it, you either own shoreline or you bushwhacked in with a reason.
Dundan Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Keene town boundary — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational lists and remote enough that access details stay mostly word-of-mouth. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either sterile water or native brookies that nobody bothers reporting. The pond sits in the mid-elevation forest belt typical of the Keene back country: mixed hardwoods, wet margins, and the kind of quiet that comes from being off the standard loop. If you know how to get there, you already know why you're going.
Duck Ponds is a two-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it lives in the gaps of most trail maps and quiet enough that it stays that way. The name suggests multiple lobes or basins, though at this size it's more likely a single shallow body with irregular shoreline or seasonal wetland margins. No fish data on record, which at two acres usually means minimal depth, heavy vegetation, or both — better frog habitat than trout water. Access details are sparse, but waters this size in the Saranac Lake orbit are often old log-drive remnants or the back corners of larger trail systems.
Lost Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough that it lives up to its name if you're not looking for it, and quiet enough that most people who pass through the area never make the effort. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trail infrastructure, no lean-to — this is the kind of water that exists for its own sake, not for overnight trips or angling pressure. If you're in the area and have a free hour, it's worth the bushwhack for the solitude alone, but don't expect facilities or a well-worn path to the shore.
Lost Pond lives up to its name — two acres tucked somewhere in the Tupper Lake township with no fish surveys on file and no formal trail record in the DEC inventory. It's the kind of water that shows up on a USGS quad but not in any paddling guide, likely landlocked by private timber company holdings or accessible only via bushwhack and local knowledge. Without stocking records or angler reports, it's either too shallow to hold trout year-round or simply too far off the grid to draw attention. If you know where it is, you probably already know whether it's worth the walk.
Porkbarrel Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational radar, and likely named in the old Adirondack tradition of wry geographic humor. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either intermittent winter oxygen levels or simply a pond too small and shallow to hold a fishery worth managing. Without established trails or nearby peaks, this is the kind of water you'd stumble onto while bushwhacking between bigger destinations, or find referenced in a surveyor's log. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a map and a compass — otherwise, it's more footnote than feature.
Pansy Pond is a two-acre pocket of water tucked into the Old Forge township — small enough that it registers more as a widening in a wetland corridor than a named destination, but it carries a survey pin and appears on the DEC inventory all the same. No fish data on record, which typically means either seasonal drawdown, shallow muck bottom, or both — the kind of water that holds frogs and dragonflies but not much else. Old Forge proper is dense with better-documented paddling (the Fulton Chain, Fourth Lake access, the Moose River Plains gates), so Pansy functions more as a map curiosity than a launch point. If you're nearby and hunting for solitude over size, it's worth a look — but confirm access and conditions locally before committing to the bushwhack.
Calfhead Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it likely holds more interest as a bushwhack destination or a named dot on the map than as a fishing or paddling objective. No fish stocking records on file, no formal trail access, no nearby campsite infrastructure — the kind of water that shows up in the DEC inventory but doesn't generate its own trip reports. If you're already in the area with a topo map and a tolerance for wet feet, it's there; otherwise, the nearby Fulton Chain and the bigger ponds south of Old Forge offer clearer reasons to stop. Worth confirming access and ownership before heading in.
The Springs is a 2-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it lives in the gap between local knowledge and the hiking guides, which usually means private land, old easements, or a put-in that requires asking around. No fish species on record, no nearby peaks, no formal trail system in the database — this is either a working pond with a quiet reputation or a name that predates the DEC lean-to era and never made it onto the recreation maps. If you're looking for it, start with the town clerk's office or the older USGS quads; sometimes these small waters only show up in the survey lines.
Hunter Pond is a small two-acre pocket tucked somewhere in the Lake Placid region — minimal surface area, no documented fishery, and no obvious trailhead or public access infrastructure that registers in the DEC inventory. It's the kind of water that shows up on USGS quads but rarely in trip reports: either landlocked by private holdings, or remote enough that paddlers and anglers route around it. Without species data or a known put-in, it exists more as a cartographic footnote than a destination. If you're hunting for quiet water in the Lake Placid area, you're better off with Copperas, Owen, or Oseetah — all of which offer confirmed access and something swimming below the surface.
