Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Sterling Pond is a 64-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of the mid-sized ponds in a part of the Park where the terrain flattens out and the woods feel thicker, more remote, less groomed than the High Peaks corridor. No fish species data on record, which usually means either limited stocking history or simply that no one's filed a survey report in recent years. Access details are sparse, but ponds of this size in this region typically sit on private land or require a longer approach through working forest — worth confirming access before you load the canoe.
Stony Creek Ponds — 153 acres split across multiple basins northwest of Tupper Lake — sits in working forest country where the paddling is quiet and the shoreline is unbroken softwood. No official fish survey data on record, but ponds this remote in the Tupper drainage typically hold brookies or panfish if they hold anything at all. Access details are sparse: this is backcountry water reached by logging roads or long carries, not a roadside launch. Bring a compass, a good map, and low expectations for company.
Storm Water Pond is what the name suggests — a one-acre retention basin in the Tupper Lake area, built to manage runoff rather than serve as a backcountry destination. No fish stocking records, no trails, no reason to plan a trip around it. These utilitarian ponds dot the region's developed corridors, functional infrastructure rather than wilderness water. If you're looking for fishable ponds near Tupper Lake, skip this one and head to Raquette Pond, Horseshoe Pond, or any of the deeper glacial ponds west of town.
Sucker Brook sits in the Tupper Lake region — a 32-acre pond with minimal public documentation and no fish survey data on file with DEC. The name suggests brook trout habitat, but without stocking records or angler reports it's speculative; worth a scouting trip if you're already working the ponds north of Tupper and have a topo map. Access details are scarce — likely old logging roads or unmarked approaches through private timber company land, which means a call to the local DEC office in Ray Brook before you commit to the drive. If you fish it, report what you find.
Sunny Pond is a 9-acre pocket of water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than motorboats, if it sees either at all. No fish species on record, no named peaks within striking distance, and no public access intel readily available, which means this one lives in that quiet category of waters that exist on the DEC inventory but not necessarily in the recreational conversation. Could be landlocked private, could be a bushwhack destination for someone with good topo skills and a reason to be curious. If you know how to reach it, you already know why you're going.
Sunset Pond is a small five-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — the kind of pond that appears on the DEC list but doesn't make it into the guidebooks, which usually means local knowledge and a bushwhack or unmaintained path. No fish data on record, no designated access, no nearby named peaks to anchor a description. If you're after it, you're likely working from a topo map and looking for a quiet morning with a canoe on your shoulders — or you're checking it off a completionist's list of named Adirondack waters.
Sweet Pond is a 13-acre patch of water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't draw crowds, remote enough that local knowledge matters more than guidebook mentions. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or just a quiet place to paddle without worrying about the catching. The name suggests old logging-camp geography or a family homestead long reclaimed by second growth, the kind of nomenclature that sticks around on USGS quads after the clearings grow back in. Worth asking at a Tupper Lake outfitter or the local DEC office for current access — ponds this size often live behind gated logging roads or unmarked two-tracks that change status with land sales and easement updates.
Thirtyfive Pond is an eight-acre backcountry water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation lists but large enough to hold a shoreline worth exploring if you're already in the area. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or nothing at all; the pond sits in working forest land where access depends on seasonal logging roads and whatever informal paths have been cut or maintained over time. This is the kind of water that rewards locals with a truck and a tolerance for unmapped routes — not a destination hike, but a quiet detour if you know where you're going. Confirm current access and ownership status before heading in.
Toad Pond is a 12-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to slip past most paddlers hunting for bigger destinations, which is half the appeal. No fish data on record, no marked trails leading in, no lean-tos advertised — the kind of pond that shows up on the DEC map as a blue dot and rewards anyone willing to bushwhack or poke around old logging roads to find it. If you're based in Tupper Lake and looking for a quiet morning paddle or a place to test a new canoe without company, Toad Pond delivers exactly that: 12 acres of water, no pressure, no crowd.
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.
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.
Tracy Pond is a 16-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on general recreation maps, but present in the DEC inventory and on USGS quads. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either legacy brookies (if the pond connects to inlet flow) or a sterile basin. The surrounding forest is working timberland, so access may be gated or seasonal depending on harvest schedules — check with the local DEC office or area outfitters before planning a trip in. These off-the-radar ponds often hold the best stillwater solitude in the park, assuming you can reach them.
Train Pond is a small 13-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of those named ponds that exists on the map more definitively than it does in paddling guides or trail registers. No fish stocking records, no marked access trail in the standard inventories, which typically means either private-land borders or a bushwhack approach through second-growth forest and wetland edge. The name suggests railroad history — the region's logging-era rail corridors often left ponds with utilitarian names and few formal recreation structures. If you're hunting it down, start with the DEC's Unit Management Plan maps and confirm land status before you walk in.
Triangle Pond is a 15-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it lives in the margin between named water and local-knowledge spot. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trails in the state database, no lean-tos or designated campsites in the immediate vicinity. These quiet ponds often hold native brook trout or yellow perch that never make it into DEC survey reports, and they're often reached by old logging roads or hunter's paths that predate the trail register system. Worth a stop if you're already in the area with a topo map and a canoe; otherwise, it's a placeholder on the larger water network until someone with recent intel files a trip report.
Trout Pond sits northeast of Tupper Lake village in a mid-elevation flat — 155 acres of workable water with no formal DEC access and no trail record in the current database. The name suggests brook trout at some point in its management history, but there's no species data on file and no stocking reports in recent memory. It's the kind of pond that shows up on the quad map but not in the guidebooks — likely private-access or surrounded by posted timberland. If you're putting in here, you already know how you're getting there.
Turtle Pond sits south of Tupper Lake village in a quiet corridor of working forest and seasonal camps — 68 acres with no formal public access infrastructure and no fish stocking records on file with DEC. The pond shows up on the paddling circuit for people launching from nearby Raquette River access points, but it's not a destination water in the way the bigger flow-through ponds are. This is the kind of place that gets its pressure from locals who know the put-in and don't advertise it — a pond that holds its secrets because it doesn't make anyone's top-ten list. Check the DEC Region 5 mapping for surrounding land status before you plan a visit.
Twin Lakes sits in the Tupper Lake town complex — a 34-acre water that reads more residential than backcountry, with private shoreline and seasonal camps defining the character. The name suggests a paired system, though one body dominates the acreage and the public footprint here is minimal compared to the state-managed ponds farther into the park. No fish species data on file with DEC, which typically signals either unstocked water or limited angling pressure worth recording. For paddlers passing through Tupper Lake proper, this is a neighborhood water — visible from the road, but not a destination unless you're staying on it.
Twin Lakes — despite the name — is a single 15-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region, likely named for a second, smaller basin that dried or silted in over time, or for visual symmetry that's clearer from certain angles than others. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either it's too shallow to winter over, or it's simply off the stocking and survey grid. The pond sits in working forest — expect limited or seasonal access depending on timber company road gates and hunting season closures. Best confirmed locally before committing to the drive.
Twin Ponds is an 8-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that access details aren't part of the standard trail inventory. The name suggests a paired-pond system, common in the glacial scour country west of the High Peaks, where shallow bowls collect runoff and connect through beaver-modified drainages. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means either too shallow for winter survival or simply never stocked and never surveyed. Worth a look if you're already in the area with a topo map and a tolerance for bushwhacking.
Twin Ponds sits north of Tupper Lake village in a wooded pocket of state land — small, quiet, and off the recreational radar for paddlers who typically track toward Raquette River or the bigger forest ponds. At 16 acres it's barely a blip on the topo, and without fish stocking data or a documented trout population it's more of a stop-and-look pond than a destination fishery. The value is in the stillness: no boat launch traffic, no motorboats, just a shallow basin and whatever brookies might have migrated upstream on their own. Best accessed by local knowledge or a willingness to bushwhack short distances from nearby forest roads.
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.
Twin Ponds sits north of Tupper Lake village in a quiet pocket of mixed forest — small, shallow, and off the main recreation grid. At 11 acres it's more kettle pond than destination water, the kind of place you find by local knowledge or old topo habit rather than trailhead signage. No fish stocking records and no formal access means this is catch-and-release-your-expectations territory: a study in bog mat ecology, maybe a solo paddle on a glass-calm morning, but not a spot you'd build a weekend around. Best treated as a rest stop if you're already threading the backroads between Tupper and Piercefield.
Upper Goose Pond is a two-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it likely doesn't see much pressure beyond the occasional local angler or paddler who knows where to find it. No fish species data on record, which in the Adirondacks usually means either it's too shallow to winter over, stocked irregularly, or simply under-surveyed. Waters this size tend to be access-dependent: if there's a nearby camp road or an old logging trail, it gets used; if not, it stays quiet. Worth checking the DEC's public access mapper before committing to a bushwhack.
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.
Warm Brook Flow sits northeast of Tupper Lake village — 825 acres of meandering wetland channels, beaver meadows, and open water where Warm Brook braids its way toward the Bog River. It's classic Adirondack lowland paddling: wide sky, shallow depth, slow current, and the kind of waterfowl and wading bird activity that makes binoculars worth the extra weight in the bow. No fish species data on record, but the flow connects to a network of nearby ponds and streams where pike and panfish show up regularly. Access logistics favor locals with topo maps and a tolerance for put-in ambiguity.
Weller Pond is a 71-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — big enough to paddle but small enough that you won't spend the day crossing it. No fish species on record, which usually means it's either heavily tannic, winter-kills, or simply hasn't been surveyed in decades; local anglers would know. The pond sits in the working forest zone rather than the High Peaks corridor, so expect a quieter experience and less foot traffic than the headline waters closer to Lake Placid or Saranac Lake. Access details are sparse in the DEC records — confirm put-in and parking locally before you drive.
West Branch of the Saint Regis River is listed as a pond — likely a widening or stillwater section of the river rather than a distinct basin — sitting somewhere in the network of wetlands and slow-moving channels west of the village of Tupper Lake. At 77 acres it's substantial enough to paddle, and if you can find access it's probably a quiet float through mixed forest and marsh grass, the kind of place where you're more likely to see a heron than another boat. No fish data on record, which either means no one's surveyed it formally or no one's bothered to file a catch report. Worth exploring if you're already on the Saint Regis drainage and looking for solitude beyond the more trafficked ponds to the north.
West Pine Pond is a 64-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of the quieter mid-sized waters in a township better known for its lakefront resorts and motorboat access. No fish stocking records and no designated campsites in the state database, which usually means either private shoreline or a pond that slipped through the DEC management grid in the 1980s. The name suggests old logging-era geography — "West Pine" typically marked a drainage or tract boundary in the pre-park timber surveys. Worth a look on a DeLorme if you're hunting for a paddle with no company, but confirm access and ownership before you put in.
Whackers Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on standard lake surveys and anonymous enough that anglers pass it by for more documented fisheries. The name alone suggests old logging-era origins, likely a crew nickname that stuck when the maps were drawn. No fish data on file, no formal access noted, no established trails — this is the category of Adirondack pond that exists in the gap between recreational infrastructure and true bushwhacking, known mostly to hunters, trappers, and the occasional canoeist with good GPS and a tolerance for alder. If you're looking for it, start with the town clerk's office in Tupper Lake.
Whey Pond is a 112-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — large enough to hold some structure and shoreline variation, but remote enough that it doesn't show up on the standard recreation circuit. No fish species data on record suggests either limited sampling or a pond that's been off the stocking rotation, which in the Adirondacks often means brook trout by default or nothing at all. The name — likely a logger-era reference to whey barrels or a dairy camp — is common across old Adirondack timber country, where crews named waters for whatever they were hauling or eating that season. Worth checking the DEC Unit Management Plan for the area if you're planning a bushwhack or float; access intel for ponds like this tends to live in those documents rather than trail registers.
Whitney Pond is an 8-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't show up on most recreation maps, quiet enough that it stays off most itineraries. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trails leading in, no lean-tos or designated campsites; this is the kind of water that exists primarily for the landowner, the local who knows the woods, or the canoeist willing to bushwhack from a nearby put-in. If you're looking at Whitney Pond, you're either lost or you know exactly why you're here.
Whitney Pond is a 12-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on regional recreation maps, but mapped and named all the same. No fish species data on file with DEC, which usually means limited access, marginal habitat, or both. These small ponds tucked into the working forest often serve as navigation landmarks for hunters and snowmobilers rather than fishing or paddling destinations. If you're heading out here, confirm access and ownership before you go — not all named waters in this part of the park sit on public land.
Willis Pond is a 67-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — no record of public access trails or road pull-offs in the DEC inventory, and no fish stocking or survey data on file. It sits in that middle tier of Adirondack ponds: big enough to show up on the map, remote enough that most paddlers and anglers never see it. If you know how to reach it — private road, bushwhack, or neighbor permission — it's likely yours for the afternoon. Otherwise, it's a name on the quad sheet and a blue polygon you scroll past on the way to somewhere with a trailhead.
Willis Pond is an 18-acre water north of Tupper Lake village — small enough to miss on a regional map, large enough to hold a quiet afternoon if you're already in the area. No established access orfish stocking records in the state databases, which usually means either private shoreline or informal local use that hasn't made it into the DEC's managed inventory. Worth a closer look if you're working the back roads around Tupper — ponds this size sometimes hide a put-in or a forgotten trail, and sometimes they're just geography between here and there.
Wilson Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it won't show up on most recreation maps, but named and surveyed all the same. No fish species data on record, which typically means either it winterkills, sees minimal pressure, or both. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake corridor often sit tucked in second-growth forest off old logging roads or between private parcels, and access — if public at all — is rarely signed or maintained. Worth confirming land status and access before planning a trip.
Windfall Pond is a 12-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it doesn't draw crowds, large enough that it holds its own identity in a landscape dense with named ponds and unmarked wetlands. The name suggests blowdown history, likely from one of the big wind events that periodically reshape the Adirondack forest canopy and open sightlines across otherwise enclosed waters. No fish species data on record, which usually means it's either too shallow for reliable winter oxygen levels or it's simply off the stocking rotation and unmapped by DEC surveys. Worth checking local access intel before committing to a bushwhack — some small ponds in this zone sit behind private land or require navigation through thick regrowth.
Windfall Pond is a 104-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — large enough to hold some character but not well-documented in the standard paddling or fishing guides. The name suggests blowdown history, common in the northern Adirondacks where ice storms and microbursts periodically reshape shorelines and access corridors. Without maintained state campsites or regular stocking records, it trends toward local knowledge — the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map but requires asking around in Tupper Lake proper to learn which logging roads or private easements (if any) actually get you there. No fish species on file with DEC, which typically means either unstocked native brookies or surveyed-but-empty.
Wolf Pond is a 902-acre body of water in the Tupper Lake region — large enough to matter on the map but low on documented detail. The size suggests motorboat access and camp development rather than backcountry solitude, though without fish stocking records or trailhead data it lives outside the usual angler and hiker circuits. Ponds this size in the Tupper Lake area typically connect to the town's network of private roads and seasonal camps — more local knowledge than public trailhead. If you're headed here, call ahead to the local DEC office or stop at a Tupper Lake tackle shop for current access and launch intel.
Wolf Pond is a 22-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to canoe in an hour, remote enough that you won't share it with powerboats or weekend crowds. No fish stocking records on file, but ponds this size in this corner of the Park typically hold wild brookies if the habitat is right. Access details are sparse in the public record, which usually means either a long paddle-in from a larger water or a woods road that only gets traffic during hunting season. Worth a call to the local DEC office in Ray Brook if you're planning a trip.
Wolf Pond is a 37-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — one of dozens of mid-sized ponds in the northwestern working forest where access details shift with logging roads and posted boundaries. No public fish stocking records on file, which usually means either brook trout that wandered in decades ago or a pond that winters too shallow for reliable carryover. The name suggests old trapping routes or timber-camp geography; Wolf ponds and Wolf brooks scatter across every township in the Park, most named before 1900. If you're planning a trip, contact the local DEC office in Ray Brook for current access status and landowner agreements.
Woodbury Pond is a 17-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation lists, large enough that it holds water through dry summers and supports a quiet shoreline. No fish stocking records on file, no maintained trail markers in the DEC database — the kind of pond that exists in the gap between official recreation sites and true bushwhack destinations. Access details are sparse, which usually means either private land complications or a local-knowledge approach from a nearby logging road. If you're heading out, confirm access and ownership before you go.
