Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Hillabrandt Vly is a 58-acre pond in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — one of the smaller waters tucked into the quieter folds of the southern Adirondacks, where the terrain softens and the crowds thin. The "Vly" (a Dutch-derived term for wetland or marsh) signals the pond's character: expect shallow edges, a marshy shoreline, and the kind of stillwater habitat that holds wood ducks and painted turtles more reliably than trout. No fish species on record, which often means either unstocked and acidic or too shallow to winter-over a sustainable population. Access details are sparse — check local topo maps or inquire with the town of Day for put-in options if you're launching a canoe.
Burntbridge Pond is a 58-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the name suggests old logging territory, common across this part of the northwestern park where fire and timber crews left their mark in place names and overgrown tote roads. Without maintained trail or public boat launch data on record, access likely runs through private land or requires local knowledge of unmapped put-ins. No fish species data in the DEC surveys, which typically means either limited stocking history or a pond that doesn't pull angler attention — worth a call to a Tupper Lake bait shop if you're serious about finding it.
Big Deer Pond sits in the Raquette Lake wild forest — 57 acres, no formal fisheries data on record, and far enough off the main corridors that it doesn't show up on most weekend itineraries. Access details are thin, which usually means either unmaintained trail or private-land complications; confirm current status and landowner permission before heading in. The pond's name suggests historical hunting camps or deer-yarding habitat, common in this drainage between Raquette and Blue Mountain lakes. If you do get there, expect solitude — and bring a compass.
Big Pond is a 57-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — mid-sized by Adirondack standards, tucked into the forested interior away from the main lake corridor. No fish species data on file with DEC, which typically means either limited stocking history or a pond that doesn't attract consistent angler pressure. The name itself is a tell: ponds named "Big" are usually the larger body in a cluster of smaller waters nearby, a regional landmark for hunters and loggers more than a recreational destination. Worth checking local access before committing — many interior ponds in this area sit on mixed-use forestland with informal or seasonal routes in.
New Pond is a 57-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of mid-sized ponds in the central Adirondacks that never made it onto the tourist loop but still hold their own quiet appeal. The name tells you what you need to know: it's a working placeholder, not a landmark, and access details are thin on public record. No fish species data logged with DEC, which usually means limited angling pressure or private-land complications upstream. Worth a closer look if you're already in the Raquette drainage and hunting for stillwater off the main routes.
Wolf Pond sits in the Schroon Lake region at 57 acres — mid-sized by Adirondack standards, large enough to hold water through dry summers but small enough that most paddlers can work the shoreline in an hour. No fish species data on file with DEC, which typically means either limited angling pressure or a pond that doesn't hold reliable populations — worth a scouting trip with a rod but not a destination fishery. The name suggests old trapping or logging history, common across ponds in this part of the Park that were working landscapes before the Forest Preserve boundaries hardened. Access details aren't widely documented; local inquiry at the Schroon Lake town offices or the nearest DEC ranger station is the reliable play.
Wolf Pond sits northwest of Saranac Lake village — a 56-acre body of water in the working landscape between the village core and the St. Regis Canoe Area. The pond doesn't appear on the classic paddling or hiking circuits, and the surrounding land mix (private holdings, low-traffic state forest, seasonal camps) keeps it off the radar for most visitors. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either limited angling pressure or limited angling success. If you're poking around the back roads near Bloomingdale or exploring the northwest edge of the Saranac Lake Wild Forest, Wolf Pond is a name on the map — not a destination, but a reference point in the mesh of small waters that define this corner of the park.
Sampson Pond is a 56-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — mid-sized by Adirondack pond standards, large enough to hold a good day of paddling but still quiet country. No fish data on record, which either means it's unstocked and unfished or it simply hasn't made it onto DEC survey lists — not uncommon for waters this far from the High Peaks corridor. The pond sits in working forest land where access typically means gated logging roads or private easements; if you're heading out, confirm current access status with the local DEC office or outfitter in Tupper Lake before you load the canoe.
Long Pond sits in the Tupper Lake region — 56 acres of water in a landscape defined more by working forests and private holdings than by trailhead signage and DEC markers. No fish species data on record, which often means either unstocked or simply under-documented; worth a call to the local DEC office or a conversation at the bait shop in town before you rig up. Access and shoreline status aren't widely published — assume gated timber roads or private land unless you confirm otherwise. If you're heading this way, cross-reference the parcel viewer and bring a good map.
Kennels Pond is a 56-acre pocket water in the Speculator region — quiet, untracked by the usual guidebook circuits, and likely named for a long-gone hunting camp or logging operation that kept sled dogs in the area. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brook trout if anything, or just a good place to float a canoe and not see another soul. Access details are sparse — if you're looking for it, start by asking at the Speculator town office or checking the local DEC road access maps for unmarked trails off Route 8 or Route 30 corridors. This is the kind of water that rewards the digger more than the driver.
Bear Pond is a 55-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — mid-sized by local standards, but without public fish stocking records or well-documented access in DEC materials. The name suggests old trapping or hunting use, common across ponds of this size that sit outside the High Peaks corridor and away from state campground networks. Ponds like this often hold wild brookies or serve as seasonal wildlife habitat, but without maintained trails or boat launches they stay off most paddling and fishing itineraries. Worth checking local outfitters or the DEC Ray Brook office for current access status if you're working the area.
Bottle Pond is a 55-acre water in the Long Lake township — no documented fishery, no formal trail system, no DEC campsite inventory. It's the kind of mid-sized pond that shows up on the map without much backstory: likely accessed by bushwhack or private road, likely fished by whoever owns the nearest camp or knows the woods well enough to walk in without a marked path. The name suggests old logging-era use — a bottle stashed by a survey crew or a trapper's cache point — but that's conjecture. If you're looking for a quiet pond with infrastructure, keep driving; Bottle Pond is for the self-sufficient.
East Pond is a 54-acre water in the Old Forge area — mid-sized by town-lake standards, small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel remote once you're off the shoreline. The pond sits in the working forest west of the Fulton Chain, part of the patchwork of private timber holdings and public easements that define the southwestern Adirondacks; access and usage depend on current landowner agreements, so check locally before launching. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means native brookies or nothing — worth a cast if you're already there, not worth the drive if you're planning around it. The Old Forge area holds dozens of similarly sized ponds; East Pond is one you find by asking at the marina or the hardware store, not by following trail signs.
The Floe is a 54-acre pond in the Speculator area — midsize by region standards, tucked into the working forest west of town where state land and private holdings checker the map. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked and acidic or simply under-surveyed; local anglers would know which. Access details are sparse in the DEC database, so if you're planning a trip, stop at the Charlie Johns store on NY-30 or call the regional fisheries office in Warrensburg — they'll have the real story on whether there's a put-in and what you're paddling into.
Lake Snow — technically a pond at 54 acres — sits in the Indian Lake township without much fanfare: no documented fish surveys, no named trailheads in the immediate vicinity, no lean-tos or primitive sites flagged in the DEC records. It's the kind of water that shows up on the map but not in the guidebooks, likely accessed by bushwhack or private land arrangements rather than marked trail. The lack of stocking records suggests either limited access or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer — though locals with boots-on-the-ground knowledge may know otherwise. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or a conversation at the Byron Park general store if you're determined to fish it.
Hammond Pond is a 54-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — a quieter corner of the eastern Adirondacks where the names on the map tend to outnumber the people on the trail. No fish data on file, which usually means either private shoreline or DEC surveys that came up empty, and the pond doesn't appear on the standard recreation circuit. Worth checking the DEC atlas for access status and ownership lines before planning a visit — many of the smaller ponds in this drainage sit behind posted land or require permission. If it's accessible, expect solitude and the kind of shoreline that hasn't changed much since the last logging era.
Woodhull Pond — 53 acres in the Old Forge wild lands — sits far enough off the main corridor that it holds onto quiet even in July. The pond drains north into the Independence River system and marks the edge of a vast roadless tract between the western Moose River Plains and the Tug Hill transition zone. No boat launch, no lean-to registry to sign — this is walk-in water for paddlers willing to portage and anglers fishing on faith rather than stocking reports. The kind of pond where you're more likely to see an otter than another fisherman.
Deer Pond is a 52-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — mid-sized by local standards, but without the fanfare of the bigger named lakes that pull the traffic. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means it's a quiet brook trout holdover or it goes fishless depending on winterkill history and beaver activity. Access details are sparse in the public record, which often signals either private-land complications or a bushwhack approach that keeps the casual crowd at bay. If you're headed in, confirm access and ownership lines before you launch — Tupper Lake's a patchwork of club land, state forest, and private holdings that don't always advertise their boundaries.
Slang Pond is a 52-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of mid-sized pond that doesn't pull headlines but holds its own as a paddle destination or a quiet fishing spot if you're already in the area. No fish species data on record, which likely means it hasn't been stocked or surveyed in recent years, though brook trout or perch wouldn't be out of the question in a pond this size. Access details are thin — check with the local DEC office or a Tupper Lake outfitter for current conditions and put-in options. Worth a look if you're working through the lesser-known waters in the northwest quadrant.
Lily Pond is a 52-acre water in the Brant Lake area — part of the patchwork of smaller ponds and lakes that fill the eastern Adirondack lowlands between the High Peaks and Lake George. The pond sits in a quieter stretch of Warren County, where the land flattens out and the summer homes thin, and the water is more about private shoreline than public access or designated trails. No fish species data on record, which usually means light stocking history or surveying gaps rather than an absence of fish. If you're driving through on NY-8 or Potash Hill Road, Lily Pond is the kind of name you'll pass on a blue sign and keep driving — unless you know someone with a dock.
Olmstead Pond is a 52-acre body of water in the Tupper Lake region — midsize by local standards, remote enough to stay off most radar but not backcountry in the High Peaks sense. No fish data on record, which typically signals either light stocking history or simply that DEC surveys haven't prioritized it; local anglers would know what swims here, if anything does. The pond sits in working forest country where paper-company roads and private inholdings complicate access more than terrain does — worth a phone call to the local DEC office or a stop at a Tupper Lake bait shop before you commit to the drive. If you're staying in Tupper and looking for a quiet paddle with no pressure, this is the kind of place that rewards showing up with a canoe and low expectations.
First Pond — 51 acres, Saranac Lake region — sits in that mid-size category where a pond is big enough to paddle but small enough that most boats never bother. The name tells the story: it's almost certainly the first in a chain or cluster, though the state records don't clarify what comes second. No fish species data on file, which usually means either it winters out hard or no one's bothered to net it in recent surveys. If you're sorting through Saranac-area ponds by map, this is one to confirm access and ownership before you commit to the drive.
Upper Browns Tract Pond is one of three Browns Tract ponds in the Raquette Lake Wild Forest — a cluster of small, shallow waters that sit in second-growth forest between Raquette Lake village and the Fulton Chain corridor. At 51 acres it's the largest of the trio, though still quiet, marshy-edged, and far enough off the main roads to filter out casual traffic. Access typically requires navigating unmarked woods roads or following old logging cuts — this is not trailhead-and-signpost territory. The pond drains into the Browns Tract Inlet, which feeds into Raquette Lake proper; no fish species data on file, but the shallow, weedy character suggests warmwater habitat if anything holds.
Mill Pond sits just off NY-73 south of Keene — a shallow, reedy 51-acre water that most people pass without noticing on the way to the higher-drama climbs and ponds farther up the valley. The pond has gone quiet in recent decades: no official fish survey data, no maintained access, no reason to stop unless you're curious about the kind of lowland wetland that once fed local mills and now feeds wood ducks and herons instead. It's the Adirondack water that doesn't ask for attention — a placeholder on the map between the trailheads people actually use. Worth a glance from the road if you're into wetland birding; otherwise, keep driving toward Chapel Pond or the Ausable Club lots.
North Pond sits on the north side of the Raquette Lake hamlet — a small, tight-shoreline water that most visitors pass without noticing on their way to the bigger-name destinations in the Fulton Chain corridor. The 51-acre pond is one of dozens of quiet satellite waters scattered through the Raquette Lake township, the kind of place that rewards local knowledge or a willingness to poke around with a canoe and a DeLorme. No fish species on record, which typically means unstocked and likely winter-kill prone in shallow bowls like this one. Access and shore conditions vary widely on ponds this size in the region — check with the town or local outfitters before planning a paddle.
Moose Pond is a 51-acre water in the Indian Lake town cluster — one of several mid-sized ponds scattered through the working forest west of Indian Lake village and south of the Cedar River Flow. The pond sits in low-relief country: no dramatic peaks, no rock ledges, just spruce and hardwood shoreline and the kind of water that holds its ice late and warms slowly. Access typically means navigating private timber company roads or longer paddle routes from more established put-ins — this is scout-it-yourself territory, not trailhead-and-sign country. No fish data on file, which usually means limited angler pressure and a pond that fishes how it fishes.
Horseshoe Pond is a 51-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold fish if they're stocked or hold over from inlet streams. The name suggests a curved shoreline or basin shape, typical of glacial scour ponds that dot the lower-elevation forests between the village and the Wild Forest tracts to the west. No fish species data on record, which often means either light pressure or intermittent stocking — worth a call to the DEC Ray Brook office if you're planning to wet a line. Access details aren't widely documented, so local inquiry or a DEC forest ranger contact will clarify whether there's a formal trail or if it's a bushwhack approach.
Tripp Pond sits in the southern Adirondacks near Brant Lake — a 50-acre water without much public record, which in this part of the park usually means private shoreline and limited access. The pond doesn't appear on the major trail networks or DEC access lists, and there's no fish stocking data in the state records — a pattern consistent with small private ponds that predate the Forest Preserve expansion. If you're looking for public fishing or paddling in this area, Brant Lake itself (one mile west) offers a state launch and documented largemouth and northern pike populations. Tripp shows up on the USGS quad, but expect to do your homework on access before making the drive.
Cat Pond is a 50-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of dozens of small, unnamed-on-most-maps waters tucked into the working forest between the big tourist corridors. No fish data on record, no marked trails on the DEC inventory, no lean-tos or designated campsites. It's the kind of water that shows up on a topo map when you're plotting a bushwhack or a canoe portage, not when you're planning a family weekend — worth knowing exists if you're already deep in that part of the park.
Leonard Pond is a 50-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — mid-sized by local standards, large enough to paddle but small enough that most of the shoreline stays within view. No fish species data on record, which in the northern Adirondacks usually means either unsampled warmwater habitat or a pond that's seen better oxygenation days. Access details are sparse in the public record; if there's a maintained trail or public launch, it's not advertised in the standard DEC materials. Worth a call to the local ranger station in Tupper Lake if you're serious about finding the put-in — local knowledge opens doors that Google Maps can't.
Long Pond sits in the Tupper Lake region as a 50-acre water with no recorded fish survey data — which usually means either the pond hasn't been stocked or sampled in recent decades, or it's a quiet beaver-meadow system that doesn't hold a recreational fishery. Without established access or designated campsites in the public record, this is likely a local or private-access pond rather than a backcountry destination. The Tupper Lake area holds dozens of similarly sized ponds scattered across working forest and conservation easement land — some paddleable, some not — and Long Pond falls into that category of waters better known to locals than the DEC trail map. If you're exploring off the main corridors, confirm access and ownership before you launch.
Second Pond is a 50-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — one of those mid-sized ponds that sits off the main recreational corridors and doesn't get the traffic of the better-known chains. No fish stocking data on file, which usually means it's either fishless, minimally managed, or host to a wild brook trout population that nobody's surveyed in decades. The name suggests it's part of a First/Second/Third sequence — a common DEC naming pattern for waters along the same drainage or access route — but without recorded nearby listings it's likely reached by unmaintained paths or private land. Worth confirming access and ownership before planning a visit.
Constable Pond is a 50-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — part of the quiet, less-trafficked network of ponds and forest between the Blue Ridge Road corridor and the Fulton Chain. No fish data on record, which usually means minimal stocking history and light angling pressure, though wild brookies turn up in these back-country ponds often enough to keep a rod in the canoe. Access specifics vary across this zone — some waters require a paddle-in from a larger lake, others sit at the end of unmarked woods roads or old logging trails that may or may not appear on current maps. Worth confirming access and ownership status before planning a trip.
Flemings Pond sits in the Paradox Lake region — a 49-acre water without much public footprint and no official fish stocking records, which usually means posted shoreline or limited-to-no public access. The name appears on USGS maps but not in the DEC's maintained paddling or fishing inventories, a pattern common to ponds ringed by private camps or tucked behind old Adirondack estates. Worth a query at the Schroon Lake DEC office or the town clerk in Paradox if you're intent on reaching it — some of these "map ponds" have owner-tolerated access via legacy trails, but assume private until confirmed otherwise.
Deer Pond is a 49-acre body of water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of mid-sized ponds scattered across the working forest and private holdings south and west of the main Raquette Lake basin. No public access data or fishery records in the state system, which typically means either private ownership or landlocked position within a larger timber tract. The name appears on USGS quads but not in DEC access guides — common for waters that predate the Forest Preserve but never connected to public trail networks. If you're researching it for paddling or fishing, start with the town assessor's office or a call to the local DEC ranger.
Second Pond is a 49-acre water in the Indian Lake township — mid-sized by southern Adirondacks standards, large enough to hold fish but small enough that no one's mapped the public access in detail. The name suggests it's part of a chain or sits off a larger water, but documentation is thin: no recorded fish surveys, no marked trailheads in the DEC database, no lean-tos on the inventory. It's the kind of pond that shows up on USGS quads and property maps but not in guidebooks — likely private-access or remote enough that it flies under the recreational radar. Worth a closer look if you're working the Indian Lake blue lines with a topo and a sense of adventure.
Whortleberry Pond is a 49-acre pond in the Brant Lake region — one of the less-documented waters in the southeastern Adirondacks, where state land fragments into a patchwork of private shoreline and low-traffic backcountry. The name suggests old logging or berry-picking country, and the acreage puts it in that middle-zone category: too big to be a beaver meadow, too remote to show up on the casual paddler's list. Without fish data on file, it's likely a brook trout prospect or a warmwater nursery depending on depth and inlet flow. Access details are thin — worth a call to the local DEC office or a conversation at the Brant Lake General Store.
Thumb Pond is a 49-acre water in the Indian Lake township — part of the loose constellation of ponds and wetlands that sprawl west and south of the hamlet, away from the harder-edged High Peaks country. No fish species data on record, which often signals either limited access or minimal stocking history; many of these mid-sized ponds in the southern Adirondacks hold wild brookies or yellow perch that never make it into the DEC surveys. The name suggests some cartographic logic — a bulbous shape on the topo, a branching inlet, a peninsula — but without a marked trailhead or nearby lean-to, this is more of a local or bushwhack destination than a weekend traffic magnet. Worth checking the Indian Lake town maps or asking at the hardware store if you're serious about finding it.
Woodruff Pond is a 49-acre water tucked in the Long Lake corridor — small enough to stay off most angler circuits but big enough to hold its shape through a dry summer. No formal fish survey data on record, which typically means either it winterkills, it's a reclaimed beaver flowage cycling through recovery, or the DEC simply hasn't prioritized stocking or sampling. Access details are sparse in the public record, but ponds of this size in the Long Lake township are often reached by old logging roads or unmaintained footpaths that require local knowledge or a willingness to bushwhack. Check with Long Lake outfitters or the town clerk's office for current access status before planning a trip in.
Beaverdam Pond sits west of Raquette Lake village in a quiet pocket of the Raquette Lake Wild Forest — 48 acres of shallow water with the kind of name that tells you what shaped it. Access is by water from Raquette Lake itself or from the network of logging roads and informal paths that thread through the area; this isn't a trailhead-and-sign destination, and local knowledge or a good topo map will save you time. The pond sees more use from anglers launching from Raquette than from foot traffic, and the shoreline holds the mix of alder, spruce, and blowdown common to beaver-maintained flowages. No fish data on file with DEC, but ponds like this in the Raquette drainage typically hold brook trout if they hold anything.
Mud Pond — 48 acres in the Brant Lake region — is one of those small, unmapped ponds that holds water and a name but no public trail, no stocking record, and no particular reputation. The name suggests soft shoreline and organic bottom, typical of Adirondack kettle ponds that formed in glacial depressions and slowly filled with sediment. Without documented access or fish data, it's likely private, landlocked by surrounding parcels, or both — a dot on the map that registers in the DEC geographic inventory but doesn't pull hikers or anglers off the road. Worth confirming ownership and access before bushwhacking in.
Beaver Pond — 48 acres in the Brant Lake region — sits in the middle-elevation terrain where the southeastern Adirondacks flatten out toward the lakes corridor. No fish data on record, which usually means either neglected stocking history or a pond that doesn't hold trout through summer heat, though beavers have clearly claimed it and reengineered the shoreline at some point in the last two decades. Access details are sparse; if you're searching for it on a map, cross-reference with local DEC access or private land boundaries before bushwhacking in. This is secondary-tier Adirondack water — worth exploring if you're already in the area, but not a destination on its own.
Little Trout Pond sits northeast of Tupper Lake village in a low-elevation mixed forest — a 48-acre working-class pond that doesn't show up on many destination lists but holds its own as a quiet paddle or a place to drop a line without fighting for shoreline. The name suggests historic brook trout, though current stocking records are thin; the pond's shallow basin and organic bottom favor warmwater species more than cold-water trout in most seasons. Access details are local knowledge — ask at a Tupper Lake outfitter or the town DEC office before heading out. This is a pond that rewards showing up with low expectations and a canoe.
Kellum Pond is a 48-acre water in the Lake George region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to hold interest if you're paddling or surveying the shoreline for access. No official fish records on file, which often means either light stocking history or private shoreline that limits angling pressure and data collection. The pond sits in that middle territory of Adirondack waters: not a destination hike, not a roadside pull-off, but the kind of place that shows up on a topo map when you're planning a back-road paddle or looking for something quiet between the bigger-name lakes. Worth a closer look if you're working the Lake George backcountry with a canoe and a flexible itinerary.
OK Slip Pond — 48 acres tucked into the Indian Lake township, a name that suggests old logging roads or surveyor shorthand but offers no ready explanation in the historical record. The pond sits off the main corridors, lacks formal trail access in DEC materials, and doesn't show up in stocking records — which typically means local knowledge, bushwhacking, or a forgotten tote road that may or may not still be passable. No fish data on file, no nearby peaks to anchor a day hike. If you know how to get in, you know; if you don't, this one stays quiet.
High Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 48-acre water in the rolling country west of the main lake, far enough off the beaten path that it doesn't show up on most paddlers' radar. No fish species on record, no maintained trail markers in the DEC database, and no nearby High Peaks to anchor a day-hike loop — this is backcountry by virtue of distance and low visitation rather than terrain. The pond likely sees more moose than anglers. If you're poking around the Raquette Lake wild forest and looking for a quiet bushwhack objective, High Pond rewards the effort with solitude.
Cod Pond holds 48 acres in the Speculator region — a mid-sized water with no stocking records and no established reputation for trout or bass, which usually means local knowledge and a paddle-in or bushwhack situation. The name suggests old logging-camp geography: provisions cached, a survey marker, a trapper's route that predates the state land acquisitions. Without public access intel in the DEC files, this is either gated private, landlocked by posted parcels, or tucked behind enough forest that it stays off the casual angler's list. Worth a call to the Region 5 DEC office in Ray Brook if you're hunting quiet water and don't mind the detective work.
Beaver Ponds — 47 acres southeast of the hamlet of Indian Lake — sits in working forest country where the High Peaks give way to rolling second-growth and a web of private timber roads. The name suggests active beaver work, and the acreage implies a flooded drainage rather than a natural basin; water levels likely shift season to season depending on dam maintenance. No public access documented, no fish stocking records on file — this is one of hundreds of mid-sized Adirondack waters that exist on the map but not in the recreation grid. If you're poking around Indian Lake's backcountry by canoe or on foot, assume gated roads and ask locally before planning a trip in.
Tub Mill Pond sits in the Paradox Lake region — a 47-acre pond that holds its water in the eastern Adirondacks, where the terrain flattens out between the High Peaks and Lake Champlain. The name suggests old logging or mill infrastructure, common in this corner of the park where settlement predates the Forest Preserve by decades. No fish species data on record, which usually means either catch-and-release brook trout fishing or a pond that doesn't hold fish year-round — worth checking with the local DEC office if you're planning to wet a line. Access details are thin, but ponds this size in the Paradox region are typically reached by seasonal camp roads or unmarked foot trails from nearby state land.
Lake Duane is a 47-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel removed once you're on the water. The name suggests a private or semi-private history, and without public access intel widely circulated, this is likely a local or club water rather than a DEC-managed destination. No fish species data on record, which typically means limited stocking history or limited angler traffic worth documenting. If you're planning a visit, confirm access and ownership before launching — not all named waters in the Park are open to the public.
Cranberry Pond is a 47-acre kettle pond in the Tupper Lake wild — the kind of mid-sized water that shows up on the quad map but rarely makes it into guidebooks. No formal access trail on record, which typically means either a bushwhack approach through private timberland or a put-in from a logging road that may or may not still be passable. The name suggests the boggy, acidic shoreline common to ponds in this drainage — good for pitcher plants and tamarack, less good for wading. No fish data on file, which in the northern Adirondacks usually means either stocked-and-forgotten brookies or nothing at all.
Hornet Ponds is a 47-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of those mid-sized waters that sits off the main recreation corridors, less documented than the roadside ponds and less hiked than the backcountry destinations. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either limited stocking history or limited angler pressure — sometimes both. The name suggests either an old logging-era nickname or a territorial yellowjacket colony that made an impression on early surveyors. Worth a look if you're mapping the ponds between Tupper and the Five Ponds Wilderness, but bring a topo and don't count on a maintained trail.
South Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 46-acre water with no formal fish stocking records and no public access trail documented in the DEC system. It's one of dozens of small ponds in the Raquette drainage that exist on the map but not in the hiking-and-fishing circuit, likely landlocked by private parcels or old logging roads that never made it into the trail network. Without a clear put-in or maintained path, it stays off the weekend rotation. If you're looking for accessible ponds in the Raquette Lake area, start with the state boat launch on Raquette Lake itself or the carry-in options on Forked Lake to the west.
Pine Pond is a 46-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — large enough to feel like a destination, small enough that public access and fishery details haven't made it into the DEC's standard reporting. The lack of species data usually means either limited stocking history or a pond that sits far enough off the trail network that survey crews skip it in favor of higher-use waters. Worth checking local outfitters or the Ray Brook fisheries office for current intel on access points and whether anyone's pulling anything out of it. If you're working from a gazetteer and a hunch, bring a backup plan.
Mud Pond sits in the Old Forge area — a 46-acre water with no public record of fish stocking or surveyed species, which usually means it's either beaver-maintained shallow water or strictly catch-and-release brook trout habitat that hasn't made it onto DEC lists. The name tells you what to expect: soft bottom, probable wetland margins, and the kind of paddling that's more about watching herons work the shallows than about making miles. Access and launch details aren't widely documented, so if you're heading out, expect to ask locally or scout from a topo map. Old Forge waters without maintained trails tend to reward the curious but punish the unprepared.
Square Pond is a 46-acre water in the Saranac Lake region with no formal fish stocking or survey data on record — which usually means it's either marginal habitat or simply off the radar for DEC management priorities. The name suggests a relatively geometric shoreline, typical of ponds formed in flat glacial till or bounded by low ridges, but without documented access points or nearby trail infrastructure, it likely sits on private land or requires local knowledge to reach. These mid-size ponds without public access often serve as neighborhood swimming holes or remain entirely undeveloped depending on ownership patterns. If you're curious about paddling or fishing here, start with the Saranac Lake town clerk or local DEC office for current access status.
Mud Pond — 45 acres tucked into the Saranac Lake region — is one of those waters that shows up on the quad map without much fanfare and without a well-marked trailhead on the main roads. The name suggests boggy shoreline and limited access, which tends to keep pressure light and paddlers scarce; ponds like this often hold brook trout in the deeper pockets, though no species data is officially on record. It's the kind of water that requires some old-road navigation or a float-in from a connected pond system — not a destination so much as a find. Worth checking the DEC unit management plan for the tract if you're planning a bushwhack or exploratory paddle.
Round Pond — one of dozens carrying that name across the Park — sits in the Old Forge township, a 45-acre water tucked into the working-forest landscape south of the Fulton Chain. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means stocked-and-forgotten or never stocked at all; local anglers would know if it held anything worth keeping. The pond is small enough to paddle in an afternoon and large enough to feel like you've gone somewhere — the Old Forge standard for a quiet morning with a canoe and a thermos. Check the town clerk's office or local outfitters for access; many ponds in this zone are private-road or gated-easement.
Ledge Pond is a 45-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to stay off most radar, large enough to hold a quiet afternoon if you can sort out the access. No fish data on record, which typically means it's been passed over by DEC sampling crews or it's a shallow, low-oxygen basin that winters hard. The name suggests a defining shoreline feature — likely a rock shelf or exposed ledge face — but without established trail or launch intel, this one lives in the gap between local knowledge and the guidebook circuit. Worth a knock on doors in town if you're hunting solitude and don't mind a blank map.
Bear Pond is a 45-acre water in the Lake George region — a name that appears on maps without much of a digital footprint, which typically means either private land or limited public access worth confirming before you drive. The pond sits outside the High Peaks corridor and the heavily trafficked Lake George Wild Forest trail networks, so it's not a standard day-hike destination. No fish species on record, which could mean unstocked, untested, or simply under the survey radar. If you're chasing this one down, call the local DEC office in Warrensburg or check the most recent Adirondack Atlas for access status — some ponds in this region are approachable only by permission or old logging roads that aren't maintained.
