Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Springhill Ponds is a 3-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — the kind of small pond that doesn't draw a crowd because it doesn't advertise itself. No fish stocking records on file, no designated campsites, no trailhead kiosk — which means it's either a local secret with walk-in access or private property with limited public approach. The Paradox Lake corridor runs quieter than the Lake George or Schroon Lake zones to the south, and waters this size typically serve as beaver habitat, birding spots, or bushwhack destinations for paddlers working the drainage. If you're in the area, ask at the town clerk's office in Schroon Lake or check the DEC lands map before assuming access.
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.
Springhill Ponds — three acres total, likely spread across multiple small basins given the plural name — sits in the Paradox Lake region, where the eastern Adirondacks flatten into farmland and low hills. No fish data on file, which usually means minimal stocking history and limited angling pressure; these small satellite ponds tend to hold brook trout only if they're spring-fed and cold enough through summer. Access details are sparse, but the Paradox Lake region runs toward private land and seasonal camps — confirm public access before heading in.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Mica Lakes — a three-acre pocket in the Speculator region with no fish stocking record and no mapped trail access — lives in that category of Adirondack waters you'd only find by accident, local knowledge, or serious bushwhacking. The name suggests old mica mining activity in the area, though no documented claims are tied directly to the pond itself. Without maintained trails or campsites, this is strictly off-grid water: bring a topo, a compass, and reasonable expectations. If you're looking for solitude that comes with genuine effort, this is the kind of destination that delivers it.
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.
Poplar Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough that it lives outside the main paddling circuit but large enough to show up on the quad. No fish stocking records and no maintained trail access in the DEC database, which usually means either private inholdings or a bushwhack approach through second-growth hardwood and wetland margin. The name suggests an old burn or clearing — poplar moves in fast after disturbance — but without access intel it's worth a call to the Old Forge visitor center before making the drive. If you're looking for a similar-sized pond with a marked trail, consider heading toward the Ha-de-ron-dah Wilderness instead.
Rhododendron Pond is a three-acre pocket tucked into the woods near Keene — small enough that it won't show up on most trail maps, quiet enough that it holds its place as a local footnote rather than a destination. No fish data on record, no formal access route advertised by DEC, and the name suggests someone either found blooms near the shore or wished they had. Ponds this size in the Keene drainage tend to sit on old logging roads or connector trails between more trafficked routes — worth knowing about if you're already in the area, not worth the drive if you're not.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Cooper Kill Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational lists, quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish data on record, no trail register, no lean-to — the kind of water that serves as a landmark on a bushwhack route or a turnaround point on a dirt road rather than a destination. The name Cooper Kill follows the Dutch colonial convention (kill = creek), suggesting the pond drains into a small tributary system rather than holding any depth or flow of its own. If you're looking for it, you already know why.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Twin Ponds sits in the Tupper Lake region as one of those small, numbered waters that only show up when you're deep into the registry — three acres, no stocking records, likely brook trout if anything. The name suggests a second pond close by, connected or within sight, but without maintained trails or DEC signage, access here is a bushwhack proposition or a local's route handed down by word of mouth. Waters this size in this part of the park tend to be shallow, tea-stained, ringed with blowdown — more valuable as a waypoint than a destination. If you know how to get there, you already know what you're walking into.
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.
Squirrel Ponds is a 3-acre water tucked into the working forest west of Old Forge — small enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational maps and quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish stocking records, no maintained trail system, no lean-tos — this is the kind of place you find by accident or because you're logging coordinates for a paddle-every-pond project. The surrounding terrain is typical West-Central Adirondack lowland: mixed hardwood, wetland buffer, second-growth timber corridors. If you're on the water here, you're likely alone.
Squirrel Ponds — three acres tucked somewhere in the Old Forge township grid — exists in the data but not in the recreational conversation, which usually means either private holdings, landlocked public parcels, or beaver work that comes and goes with the water table. The name suggests local usage rather than official DEC designation, and the absence of fish records points to seasonal depth or access issues that keep it off the stocking rotation. If you're after named water in the Old Forge corridor, the South Branch of the Moose River and the chain lakes (First through Eighth) are the proven destinations — Squirrel Ponds remains more of a map dot than a paddle plan.
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.
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.
Livingston Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid corridor — small enough that it doesn't appear on most trail maps and rarely shows up in regional fishing or paddling logs. No fish species data on record, which typically means either unstocked and unsampled or too shallow and acidic to hold trout through summer — common for the smaller High Peaks waters tucked into spruce drainages. The name suggests private or semi-private history, and without public access information on file it's likely either landlocked by private parcels or accessible only by bushwhack. If you know the put-in, it's the kind of place you keep to yourself.
Owl Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on recreational fishing maps and carries no species data in the DEC records. The name suggests old surveyor's nomenclature or a landowner's reference that stuck, and ponds this size in the southern Adirondacks often sit on mixed public-private land or within larger forest tracts with limited marked access. Without trail data or stocking history, this is the kind of water that rewards local knowledge more than a GPS pin. If you're in the area and know the access, it's worth checking shoreline structure for native brookies or holdover panfish.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Hudson River — classified by DEC as a pond — is a two-acre backwater oxbow or side channel somewhere in the Indian Lake region, likely a remnant meander or wetland basin named for its proximity to the main river corridor rather than the main stem itself. Without fish survey data or mapped access, this is probably a swampy, unmarked pocket of water visible from a logging road or a bushwhack destination for someone with a GPS unit and a tolerance for alder thickets. The Indian Lake stretch of the Hudson proper runs northwest through open country and past multiple state boat launches — this pond, by contrast, is off that grid entirely.
Childs Ponds sits in the Saranac Lake region as a quiet 2-acre water — small enough that it lives in the margins of most recreational planning but worth noting for paddlers working the area's pond-to-pond networks or anglers prospecting overlooked stillwater. No fish species on record, which in DEC terms means either unstocked and unsampled or holding wild brookies that haven't made it into the database. The ponds (sometimes mapped as plural, sometimes singular depending on water level) occupy low ground typical of the Saranac Lake basin — forested shoreline, soft bottom, and the kind of solitude that comes from being too small for most people's radar. Worth a look if you're already in the neighborhood and mapping minor water.
Upper Cacner Pond is a two-acre pocket of water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than boats, and remote enough that finding reliable access information is half the challenge. The pond sits in the transitional zone between the southern Adirondacks and the working forests around the Sacandaga basin, where public and private land checker the map and old logging roads may or may not still connect. No fish species data on record, which either means nobody's surveyed it or nobody's bothered — both plausible for a pond this size in this corner of the Park. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a topo map and low expectations.
Ridge Dam is a two-acre impoundment in the Indian Lake region — small enough that it reads more as pond than reservoir, though the name gives away its origin. No fish species on record, no maintained trail access in the DEC database, and no nearby peaks to anchor it in the standard High Peaks or Fire Tower lexicon — this is backcountry water in the quieter, less-trafficked center of the Park. If you're headed there, you're working from a topo map and local knowledge, not a trailhead kiosk. Expect wetland margins, possible beaver activity, and the kind of solitude that comes from being off the Instagram loop.
Cranberry Pond is a 2-acre water in the Keene backcountry — small enough that most topo maps label it but most hikers walk past it en route to something taller. The name suggests the usual sphagnum-and-heath shoreline common to glacial kettle ponds in this part of the Park, and the acreage puts it in that category of ponds that exist more as waypoints than destinations. No fish data on record, which tracks for waters this size and this remote — if it holds brookies, they're small and the population is marginal. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious what a 2-acre Adirondack pond looks like when no one's paying attention.
Covey Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that access details aren't widely documented. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either it winters out or nobody's bothered to stock it. The name suggests old hunting camp ties, common in this part of the park where private inholdings and club lands still shape the landscape. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake drainage and stumble on it, you're either lost or you know exactly what you're doing.
Kings Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — small enough that it lives in the realm of local knowledge rather than guidebook coverage. No fish data on record, no marked trailheads pulling crowds, just the kind of water that shows up on a topo map and makes you wonder if it's worth the bushwhack. These micro-ponds tend to be shallow, weedy, and more interesting for their setting than their fishing — but in the southern Adirondacks, that setting often means you have the place to yourself. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious about what two acres of water in the woods actually looks like.
Little Mud Pond is a two-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of small, soft-bottomed pond that shows up on topo maps but rarely in conversation. No fish surveys on record, which typically signals shallow water, heavy vegetation, or both; ponds this size in the northern Adirondacks often hold beaver activity and wading birds rather than trout. Without maintained trail access or nearby lean-tos, it's best understood as a paddler's detour or a bushwhack objective rather than a destination. If you're already nearby with a canoe and a taste for solitude, it's worth the reconnaissance.
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.
Little Duck Pond is a two-acre pocket tucked into the sprawl of forest east of Raquette Lake — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and quiet enough that it holds that status by design. No formal access, no stocked fish, no DEC campsites — this is the kind of water you find by accident or by studying the blue splotches on a topo map and wondering what's out there. It's the Raquette Lake region in miniature: thousands of acres of working forest, private inholdings, and unmapped ponds that predate the trail system by a century. If you're looking for Little Duck, you're probably already lost — or exactly where you want to be.
Wilcox Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough that it likely holds brook trout if it holds fish at all, but there's no stocking or angling records on file to confirm it. Waters this size in the central Adirondacks tend to be either old beaver work, kettle ponds left by glacial melt, or both; without trail access noted in DEC records, this one's either on private land or tucked into a roadless drainage where it sees more moose than anglers. If you're chasing obscure ponds in the Schroon corridor, start with confirmed access at Pharaoh Lake Wilderness or the trails off Schroon Lake Road.
Hudson River — the pond, not the iconic waterway — is a two-acre backcountry stillwater in the Lake Placid region, tucked far enough off-trail that it doesn't appear on most paddlers' radars. The name is a historical artifact: many small Adirondack ponds bear the names of surveying-era landmarks or nearby drainages, sometimes lending outsized identity to modest waters. No fish data on file, no formal access trail, no lean-tos — this is a bushwhack destination for orienteering types or hunters working the perimeter ridges. If you're expecting the river, keep driving south.
Proctor Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it likely sits off-trail or accessed by local knowledge rather than marked DEC routes. No fish species on record, which often means minimal stocking history and either shallow water that winters out or a pond that's simply too remote to warrant regular survey. Waters this size in the eastern Adirondacks tend to be tucked into mixed hardwood slopes or old farmland reverting to forest — worth a look if you're already in the area and curious, but not a destination pond on its own merits.
Martin Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Paradox Lake region — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreational maps and remote enough that access details are scarce in the public record. No fish stocking data, no marked trails, no DEC lean-tos within shouting distance. Ponds this size in the eastern Adirondacks are often walk-in affairs through private or posted land, or they're remnant beaver work that silts in over a decade and becomes a wetland margin by the next survey. If you're in the area and curious, check property lines and ask locally — Martin Pond isn't a destination, but it's on the map for a reason.
