Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 — 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.
Long Pond sits in the Tupper Lake Wild Forest — a 45-acre water in a region dense with ponds but light on published information. No fish stocking records on file, which in this part of the Park often means native brook trout or nothing at all. Access likely involves old logging roads or unmarked carries; the DEC Unit Management Plan is the starting point for anyone serious about fishing it. This is backcountry homework territory — not a trailhead-and-sign destination.
Muller Pond sits in the Schroon Lake region at 45 acres — small enough to feel enclosed, large enough to paddle without circling twice in an hour. The pond doesn't appear on many fishing reports or trailhead kiosks, which means it tends to stay quiet even on summer weekends when the bigger named waters pull the crowds. No fish species data on file with DEC, so assume general warmwater possibilities unless you hear otherwise from someone who's actually wet a line here. Access details are sparse — worth checking with the Town of Schroon or local outfitters if you're planning a visit.
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.
Burnt Pond is a 45-acre water tucked into the southeastern Adirondacks near Brant Lake — far enough from the High Peaks corridor to stay off most weekend itineraries. The pond sits in what was historically working forest, part of the patchwork of private and public land that defines the southern foothills; access and usage rights vary and should be confirmed locally before heading in. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means natural brook trout or nothing at all — worth a cast if you can get to it. The Brant Lake region skews more toward lakeside summer rentals than backcountry, so Burnt Pond reads as a quiet outlier in a neighborhood built for motorboats and docks.
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.
Rose Pond is a 44-acre water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the central Adirondack lake country, tucked into mixed hardwood and conifer forest typical of the mid-elevation zone. No fish species data on file, which usually means limited angling pressure and minimal stocking history; it's the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC list but not in the fishing reports. Access details are sparse — likely private-land approaches or unmaintained routes from neighboring camps — so confirm access and ownership before bushwhacking in. The Raquette Lake region holds more than a hundred named waters within a ten-mile radius; Rose Pond is one of the quiet ones.
Cook Pond is a 44-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — quiet, off the main tourist corridors, and the kind of pond that doesn't make it onto the Instagram feed but holds appeal for anyone who wants elbow room and stillness. No official fish species data on record, which usually means either minimal stocking history or a pond that gets fished lightly enough that the DEC hasn't surveyed it in years. Access details are sparse in the public record, so confirm ownership and entry points locally before planning a trip. Worth a look if you're already in the area and prefer discovering water on your own terms.
Lake Sally is a 44-acre pond in the Lake Placid region with limited public information on file — no species data, no documented access routes, no nearby trailheads flagged in the standard references. It sits in the broader orbital zone of Lake Placid proper, likely private or roadside with restricted access, which is typical for smaller named waters in this corridor that predate modern recreational mapping. If you're targeting it specifically, start with the local DEC office in Ray Brook or the town clerk — they'll know whether there's a public right-of-way or if it's strictly a shoreline-owner pond. No guarantees on fish, but most Adirondack ponds this size that aren't stocked or maintained drop off the angler radar within a generation.
Oliver Pond is a 44-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — one of the mid-sized ponds that sits off the main tourist corridors and sees light recreational use. No fish species data on record, which typically means either unstocked or unreported — the kind of pond that draws canoes and kayaks more than fishing rods. The acreage suggests room to paddle and a shoreline with some character, but without documented public access or DEC designation, it's worth confirming land status before exploring. A quiet water in a quieter corner of the Park.
Spectacle Ponds — two connected bodies of water totaling 44 acres — lie in the working forest west of Saranac Lake, accessible via private timber company roads that shift status depending on season and ownership. The ponds sit in low-rolling country rather than dramatic terrain, which means they're more likely to draw local anglers and hunters than through-hikers, though fish species records are sparse or outdated. The name suggests the twin-pond configuration when viewed from above — a cartographic feature more than a visual one from shore level. Access details and current road permissions are worth confirming locally before heading in.
Sly Pond holds 44 acres in the southeast corner of the Adirondack Park — Lake George Wild Forest territory, where the landscape shifts from big water and tourist infrastructure to quieter second-growth woods and seasonal camps. No fish species on record, which usually means limited access, private shoreline, or both; ponds this size in the Lake George region often sit behind seasonal residences or older club land with complicated right-of-way histories. Worth a DEC access inquiry if you're working the area — sometimes these mid-sized ponds surprise with a carry-in launch or an unmarked footpath from a nearby forest road.
Lower South Pond is a 44-acre water in the Old Forge township — one of several "South Ponds" scattered across the western Adirondacks, which means confirming you're at the right one before you launch. The pond sits in second-growth forest typical of the Old Forge corridor: logged hard in the railroad era, now thick with mixed hardwoods and pockets of spruce. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means brookies if anything, or nothing at all — worth a cast if you're already there, not worth the drive if fish are the mission. Access details are lean; local knowledge or a DeLorme will serve you better than the DEC website.
Middle South Pond is a 44-acre water tucked into the Old Forge tract — part of the sprawling state forest mosaic west of the Fulton Chain, where ponds outnumber trails and most access is by old logging road or bushwhack. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or nothing at all; worth a scouting trip if you're already working the area. The name suggests it's one of several South Ponds in the vicinity — a common naming pattern in this corner of the park, where survey crews ran out of imagination before they ran out of water. Expect quiet, expect solitude, and bring a GPS unit.
Little River is a 43-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — a modest water with no official fish survey on record and no major trail infrastructure linking it to better-known destinations. The name suggests stream drainage rather than spring-fed basin, and the lack of stocking data means it's either brook trout habitat by default or it winters out entirely depending on depth and oxygen. Waters like this tend to be local-access spots: known by the nearest property owners, occasionally paddled by canoeists willing to bushwhack or use old logging roads, but rarely mentioned in guidebooks. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake backcountry and Little River shows up on your topo, assume it's quiet — and bring a compass.
Little Long Pond — 43 acres in the Tupper Lake region — is one of those waters that exists in the gap between the documented and the visited, a pond with a name on the map but no trail register, no fish stocking records, and no lean-to coordinates in the DEC database. It's likely a bushwhack or a local put-in, the kind of place that shows up in hunting camp stories but not in hiking guides. No species data on file means it could hold native brook trout, it could be too shallow to overwinter fish, or it could simply be unstocked and unsampled — common enough in the working forest surrounding Tupper Lake. If you know the access, you know; if you don't, start by asking at a local fly shop or checking the landowner status on the DEC mapper.
Bettner Ponds — a 43-acre pond cluster in the Long Lake township — sits in the kind of low-relief boreal country that defines the northwestern Adirondacks: dense softwood cover, beaver activity, limited road access. The ponds don't appear on most recreational fishing databases, and without trail infrastructure or maintained put-ins, they're more likely to show up on a DEC wetland map than a paddling itinerary. This is working forest country — International Paper and Lyme Timber lands — where gated logging roads and informal hunter access dominate. If you're headed here, assume you're navigating by topo map and GPS, not trailhead signs.
Grassy Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — 43 acres tucked into the working forestland south and west of the main lake basin, part of the patchwork of private timberland, hunting camps, and state easement parcels that defines this stretch of the central Adirondacks. Access here typically depends on landownership and seasonal roads; this isn't front-country paddling like the Blue Mountain Lake chain, and it's not the backcountry stillwater of the Five Ponds either — it's middle-distance water in a region where the line between public and private shifts with every parcel sale. No fish data on file, which usually means it's been off the DEC stocking rotation for decades, if it was ever on it.
Kibby Pond is a 42-acre water in the Speculator region — small enough to stay off most itineraries, large enough to justify the trip if you're hunting for solitude in the southern Adirondacks. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either unfished, unstocked, or holding native brook trout that no one's bothered to census — worth a cast if you're curious and already in the area. The lack of nearby curated listings suggests minimal formal access or designated camping, so expect to do some map work if you're serious about visiting. Call the nearest DEC ranger station for current access status and to confirm you're not crossing private land.
Black Pond sits off the NY-3 corridor between Saranac Lake village and Tupper Lake — a 42-acre water that's less trafficked than the bigger named ponds in the region but still accessible to paddlers willing to scout the put-in. The pond holds brook trout in most years, though stocking records and angler reports are thin compared to the headliner waters closer to the village. No designated campsites on record, but the Saranac Lakes Wild Forest wraps around the area and backcountry camping rules apply at 150 feet from shore. Expect a quiet day on the water — this is working distance from town, not destination paddling.
Heavens Pond — 42 acres in the Tupper Lake region — sits in working forest country where detail tends to be sparse and access can shift with timber operations or private easement changes. No fish species on record, which usually means either unstocked or catch data never made it into the DEC system; ponds this size often hold brookies if there's adequate depth and oxygenation. Without curated trail or lean-to data, this is likely a bushwhack or seasonal-road access situation — worth a call to the local DEC office or a check of current sportsman access maps before you plan a trip in.
Mitchell Ponds is a 41-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — one of those mid-sized ponds that holds its own fishing and paddling audience but doesn't draw the roadside crowds. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either light stocking history or catch reports that never made it into the system; locals with a canoe and a morning free will know more than the database does. The ponds sit far enough off the main corridors that you're not sharing the shoreline with through-hikers or day-trippers — just you, the water, and whatever's rising at dawn. Access details vary year to year; check with the town or a regional paddling outfitter for current put-in conditions.
High Pond sits northwest of Tupper Lake village — a 41-acre water in a region better known for its larger lakes and motorized access. The pond holds no state fish-stocking records, which in Tupper Lake country usually means either natural brook trout populations or a pond that doesn't hold fish through winter drawdown. Without formal trail records or lean-to data, this is local knowledge territory: ask at the Tupper Lake outfitters or the town office for current access. In a region dominated by Big Tupper, Raquette River paddling, and snowmobile corridors, the smaller named ponds tend to be hunting-season destinations or spring bushwhacks.
Puffer Pond is a 41-acre water in the Indian Lake region — far enough from the High Peaks corridor to stay quiet, close enough to NY-30 to be a known local name without being a roadside attraction. No state record on fish species, which often means either under-surveyed or stocked inconsistently over the years; worth a call to the Region 5 DEC office in Ray Brook if you're planning to fish it seriously. The pond sits in mixed hardwood-conifer forest typical of the central Adirondacks — not dramatic terrain, but reliable solitude if you're willing to work for access. Expect informal use and minimal infrastructure.
Town Line Pond is a 41-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of small working pond that sits between named roads and doesn't broadcast its presence. No fish species data on file, which usually means it's been overlooked by DEC surveys rather than actually fishless, but it's worth confirming locally before you bring a rod. The name suggests it straddles a town boundary, a common Adirondack pattern for ponds that never quite belonged to one hamlet's identity. Best bet for access intel: ask at a Tupper Lake bait shop or check the county tax maps for adjacent public land.
Arbuckle Pond is a 41-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of the smaller, lesser-documented ponds in a watershed thick with them. No official fish stocking records and no marked lean-tos or maintained access trails in the DEC catalog, which means it likely sees pressure only from locals who know the old logging roads or from paddlers threading through the larger lake systems nearby. In a region defined by bigger destinations — Tupper Lake proper, the Bog River flow, Raquette River access — Arbuckle sits in that middle category: not remote enough to be truly wild, not developed enough to show up on the summer lake-house circuit. Worth checking local outfitters or the town clerk's office in Tupper Lake if you're hunting quiet water off the standard routes.
Long Pond sits in the Indian Lake township — a 41-acre water in a region dense with ponds and working forestland, where named waters outnumber the people who fish them. No fish survey data on file with DEC, which in this part of the park usually means either the pond hasn't been stocked in decades or it holds wild brookies that nobody's bothered to document. Access details are scarce; if there's a formal trail it's not widely advertised, and most small ponds in this area are reached by old logging roads, compass work, or local knowledge passed along at the hardware store. Worth a call to the Indian Lake chamber or the local DEC office before you commit to the drive.
Huntley Pond is a 41-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of the many mid-sized ponds scattered across the southern Adirondacks that don't appear on the standard hiking circuit but hold interest for paddlers willing to do the access research. No fish species data on record with DEC, which typically means either limited stocking history or overlooked surveying in a drainage that doesn't see heavy angling pressure. The pond sits in working forestland east of NY-30, where seasonal roads and private inholdings make access a matter of asking locals or studying the most recent tax parcel maps. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or the local DEC ranger if you're planning a trip in.
Tooley Pond is a 41-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that you won't share it with many others. No fish species data on file with DEC, which typically means either unstocked brook trout water or a shallow pond that winters out; local knowledge beats the database here. Access details are sparse in the official record, but ponds of this size in this township usually come with either a rough seasonal road or a short bushwhack from a logging trace. Worth a call to a Tupper Lake outfitter or the local DEC office before you load the canoe.
Eagle Pond — 41 acres northwest of Saranac Lake village — is one of those mid-sized waters that doesn't announce itself from the road and doesn't appear on most paddling itineraries, which keeps it quiet even in July. The shoreline is mostly wooded and undeveloped, with private parcels mixed in; access details vary depending on which end of the pond you approach from. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means either unstocked and unsampled or locals who know aren't talking. If you're already in the area and looking for a calm-water paddle away from Lower Saranac's weekend traffic, it's worth the detour.
Pelcher Pond is a 41-acre water tucked into the Raquette Lake township — one of the quieter ponds in a region better known for its resort history and steamboat routes. Access details are sparse in the public record, which usually means either private shoreline or a bushwhack approach through thick Adirondack lowland. The pond sits in the working forest southwest of the core Raquette Lake settlement, where timber company roads and old hunting camps define the landscape more than marked trails. No fish species data on file — a gap that suggests light pressure or overlooked surveys, not absence.
Jackson Pond is a 41-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of those mid-sized ponds that shows up on the topo but doesn't carry much local intel in the standard guidebooks. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either native brookies that nobody bothers reporting or a pond that winterkills and stays quiet. The Indian Lake region holds dozens of these under-documented waters, scattered across state land and private holdings in roughly equal measure — this one's worth a closer look at the current DEC land status map before planning a trip. If it's accessible and holds fish, it's the kind of place you'll have to yourself on a Tuesday in June.
Wolf Pond is a 41-acre water in the Blue Mountain Lake region — small enough to paddle in an hour, large enough to feel like solitude when you're on it. No fish stocking records in the DEC database, which usually means brook trout if anything, or it means the pond winters out and doesn't hold fish at all. The name suggests old trapping routes or timber-era camps, standard nomenclature for ponds tucked into the midweight forest between settlements. Access details and trail conditions vary year to year; confirm locally before you commit the paddle or the bushwhack.
Wakely Pond is a 41-acre water tucked into the backcountry west of Blue Mountain Lake — remote enough that details on access and fish populations stay off the radar, which in the central Adirondacks usually means it's either gated private land, state land with minimal trail maintenance, or both. The name shares lineage with Wakely Mountain to the south, a fire tower peak that marks the western edge of the Hamilton County lake cluster. Without confirmed public access or stocking records, this one lives in the gray zone of waters you hear about from old surveyor maps but rarely see current trip reports on. If you're chasing it, verify access and trail status with the local DEC office before you bushwhack.
West Pond is a 40-acre water in the Old Forge constellation — one of the smaller ponds in a region dominated by the Fulton Chain and Fourth Lake's resort corridor. No species data on file with DEC, which typically means either no recent survey work or a pond that doesn't hold much beyond opportunistic brook trout or panfish. The pond sits far enough from the main lake access points that it avoids the powerboat traffic but close enough to Old Forge that it's likely reached by seasonal camps or private drives rather than a marked trailhead. For stocking and access specifics, check with the Town of Webb office or local outfitters.
Upper Moose Pond is a 40-acre pond in the Long Lake town corridor — part of the Moose Pond chain that includes Lower Moose and Little Moose, though access and connectivity details remain obscure in most trail literature. The pond sits in working forest country where private land and easement access can shift season to season; if you're planning a visit, confirm current put-in options with the town or local outfitters before you load the canoe. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked or simply unreported — brook trout are the default assumption in most Long Lake backcountry ponds, but you're fishing on faith. This is quiet-water paddling territory, not a trailhead destination.
Turtle Pond is a 40-acre brook trout pond in the St. Regis Canoe Area, reached by carry from Long or Slang Pond. A lean-to sits on the shore — quiet water, paddle-only, part of the inner-loop circuit.
Hour Pond is a 40-acre water in the Indian Lake township — part of the lower-elevation fabric of ponds and wetlands that defines the central Adirondacks south and west of the High Peaks. No fish species data on record, which typically means limited angling pressure and a water that's more about paddling access or bushwhacking curiosity than stocked trout. The name suggests either an old surveyor's measure or a logging-era reference, though the specifics are lost to time. Worth checking DEC atlases for road or trail proximity if you're mapping a route through the area.
Cary Pond is a 40-acre water in the Long Lake township — backcountry enough that it hasn't made it onto the standard paddling circuits, but documented in the DEC inventory and named on the topo. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means brook trout if anything, or nothing at all. The pond sits in working forest land where access depends on private logging roads and whatever handshake arrangements might exist with the landowner — worth a stop at the Long Lake town office or a local fly shop before you commit to the drive. If you're already in the area for Newcomb or the Santanoni corridor, it's a footnote; if you're chasing obscure ponds for their own sake, it's exactly that.
South Pond sits in the Old Forge township on the western edge of the park — a 40-acre water without the fishing pressure or boat traffic of the Fulton Chain just to the east. The pond has no public record of stocked or native fish species, which likely means it's either fishless or holds remnant brook trout from natural reproduction — worth a cast if you're nearby, but not a destination fishery. Access details are thin; this is one of those Old Forge-area ponds that shows up on the map but doesn't make it into the DEC access guides, so expect to do some local recon if you're planning a visit. If you find a put-in, it's a canoe or kayak pond — nothing more.
Grass Pond is a 40-acre water in the Old Forge network — part of the sprawling Fulton Chain / Moose River region where ponds multiply and naming conventions sometimes feel like an afterthought. The pond sits in working wilderness: thick shoreline, beaver activity, and the kind of quiet you earn by putting in effort or knowing the right put-in. No fish survey data on file, which usually means limited angling pressure and a pond that's more about the paddle than the catch. Access details matter here — this is Old Forge backcountry, not a roadside pull-off.
Lilypad Pond sits in the Raquette Lake township — a 40-acre pocket water whose name telegraphs the shoreline conditions by midsummer. No fish data on record, which typically means it's either too shallow, too weedy, or too acidic to support a standing population, though beaver activity can change that equation season to season. The pond is part of the broader Raquette Lake drainage, where dozens of small ponds and wetlands feed the lake system through a network of low-gradient streams and seasonal channels. Access details are sparse — if you're headed in, expect bushwhacking or a paddle-in approach from connected water.
Rock Pond is a 40-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of the many mid-sized waters in the working forest west of the High Peaks corridor. No fish species data on record, which usually means either minimal stocking history or simply under-reported angling; the pond sits in a landscape of private timberland and conservation easement, so access details vary by landowner and season. The name suggests the obvious — expect bedrock shoreline, likely shallow with mixed depths over glacial till. Check current access status with the DEC or local outfitters before planning a trip.
Spectacle Ponds — a pair of connected ponds totaling roughly 40 acres — sits in the working forest between the village of Saranac Lake and the Lower Saranac Lake shoreline, more often crossed by loggers and hunters than hikers looking for a destination. The ponds drain north toward the Saranac chain but remain tucked in second-growth timber without maintained trails or formal access points — this is private timberland interspersed with state easement parcels, not the kind of water you paddle to from a highway pull-off. No fish stocking records on file, and no particular reason to assume brook trout survived the logging era here. If you know the ponds, you either own land nearby or you've spent enough time in the Saranac Wild Forest to have earned the route in.
Mud Pond is a 39-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — the kind of mid-sized pond that gets overlooked in favor of the bigger named lakes but often delivers exactly what backcountry paddlers want: quiet water, low traffic, and a sense of distance from the highway corridor. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's been passed over by DEC surveys or doesn't hold a reliable fishery — worth confirming locally if you're planning to wet a line. Access details are sparse, but ponds of this size in the Saranac Lake area typically require either a bushwhack or a seasonal logging road; check with a local outfitter or the Ray Brook DEC office for current conditions before you commit to the carry.
Hawk Pond is a 39-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to stay off the busiest lake circuit but large enough to hold fish and paddle interest. No public species data on record, which usually means either minimal stocking history or catch reports that haven't made it into DEC surveys; local intel at an Old Forge fly shop will fill the gap faster than the database. The pond sits in working Adirondack country where state land, private holdings, and easement access can shift block to block — confirm public access and launch rights before you load the canoe.
