Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Three Ponds sits in the northwest corner of the Lake George Wild Forest — a 23-acre water that reads more remote than its access would suggest, tucked into second-growth hardwoods with no maintained trail system and no formal boat launch. The name implies three distinct basins, though water levels and beaver activity over the years have blurred the lines; what you find depends on the season and the decade. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means natural brookies or nothing at all — local anglers will know which. This is a bushwhack destination or a local secret, not a trailhead feature — plan accordingly.
Mouldy Pond is a 23-acre water in the Old Forge area — the name alone tells you it's likely tucked in a low, boggy basin where drainage moves slow and the shoreline runs soft. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either nobody's looking or the pond runs too shallow and warm in summer to hold trout year-round. Old Forge sits at the southwestern edge of the park where the terrain flattens out and the ponds multiply — Mouldy is one of dozens of small waters in that network, most of them better known to locals with canoes than to through-hikers. If you're hunting it down, expect wetland access and bring boots that can take mud.
Grizzle Ocean — a 22-acre pond in the Paradox Lake region — carries the kind of peculiar name that likely traces back to some forgotten logging-era surveyor or trapper. The pond sits in the mid-elevation forest south of the Schroon Lake corridor, away from the High Peaks tourist traffic and the lean-to loop trails. No fish stocking records on file, no DEC campsite designations, no trailhead pull-offs with kiosks — this is the category of Adirondack water that shows up on the topo map but not in the guidebooks. Access likely requires either private-land permission or a bushwhack from the nearest seasonal road.
Round Pond is a 22-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, remote enough that you won't share it with jet skis or bass boats. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either unstocked or lightly surveyed brook trout habitat; bring a rod and keep expectations modest. The pond sits in working forest country, where access roads shift with logging cycles and the best route in is usually confirmed by local outfitters or the DEC Ray Brook office before you load the canoe. If you're camping nearby, it's a quiet exploratory paddle — not a destination water, but a reliable blank spot on the map.
Owen Pond is the middle link in the Copperas–Owen–Winch chain off NY-86, a 22-acre water that sees less traffic than Copperas but shares the same quiet-pond character — low ridges, soft banks, and the kind of stillness that makes a lunch break feel like a reset. The loop trail connects all three ponds, and Owen sits roughly halfway, making it the turnaround point for families who start at Copperas and decide the full circuit is more than they bargained for. No designated campsites on Owen itself; paddlers occasionally portage in from Copperas for a few hours of solitude. The pond drains north into Copperas Brook, which eventually feeds the West Branch of the Ausable.
Cranberry Pond is a 22-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to be overlooked, large enough to hold a quiet afternoon if you can find the access. No fish species on record, which likely means it's either too shallow to winter-stock or it's been passed over by DEC survey crews for decades. The name suggests the usual Adirondack bog margin — sphagnum mats, tamarack, maybe pitcher plants if the shoreline hasn't been trampled — but without formal access or nearby trail systems, this one stays off most paddlers' lists. Worth a topographic map and a conversation with the Tupper Lake town office if you're hunting stillwater in the area.
Green Pond is a 22-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to feel secluded, large enough to paddle without circling endlessly. No fish stocking records on file, which either means it's been overlooked by DEC surveys or it's a seasonal pond that doesn't hold trout through summer drawdown. The name suggests it once sat on a parcel owned by a Green family, or it's a straightforward descriptor of the algae bloom that colors shallow Adirondack ponds by late July. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious, but confirm access and water levels before committing to the drive.
Carter Pond is a 22-acre water in the Lake George region — small enough to stay off most touring maps, large enough to hold its own shoreline character. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means either wild brookies that never made the surveys or a pond that winterkills and runs fishless year to year. The Lake George Wild Forest holds dozens of these middle-acreage ponds tucked between the better-known trail corridors — some with old footpaths, some bushwhack-only, most lightly visited outside hunting season. Check the DEC Wild Forest map for the nearest trailhead; Carter Pond likely requires local knowledge or a willingness to navigate by topo.
Cat Mountain Pond is a 22-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to miss on a topo map, quiet enough that most paddlers never get there. No fish stocking records and no maintained trail infrastructure mean this is either private, gated, or accessed by locals who know the woods. The name suggests a wooded rise somewhere nearby, but without public access details this one stays off the standard circuit. If you know the gate code or the logging road in, it's yours — otherwise it's a pin on the map for another season.
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.
Mud Lake sits in the Great Sacandaga basin — 22 acres of shallow, soft-bottomed water that earns its name honestly. The pond is characteristic of the slower, warmer lowland waters south of the main High Peaks zone, where the forest opens up and the terrain flattens into marsh edges and lily pad cover. No fish records on file, which often signals either winter kill conditions or overlooked brook trout holding in whatever spring seeps feed the system. Access and shoreline details are sparse enough that this one still flies under the radar — worth a look if you're already in the Sacandaga corridor and have a canoe.
Big Sherman Pond is a 22-acre pond in the Schroon Lake region — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel removed once you're on the water. The pond sits in undeveloped state land west of US-9, part of the quiet mid-elevation forest country that defines the southern Adirondacks between Schroon Lake and the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness. No fish species data on file, which often means either undersampled waters or reclaimed ponds that haven't been restocked — worth checking with DEC Region 5 for current status. Access details are limited; local knowledge or a good topo map will be your starting point.
Long Pond — 22 acres in the Tupper Lake region — is one of dozens of small ponds scattered across the northwestern Adirondacks that share the name, making it more coordinate than destination. Without documented fish surveys or formal trail access, it sits in that middle category: not remote enough to be a backcountry objective, not developed enough to show up on the family-weekend checklist. Waters like this often hold brook trout by default and see more use from locals with a canoe and a truck than from through-hikers. If you're targeting Long Pond specifically, start with the DEC Unit Management Plan for the area — access is almost always old logging roads or informal paths that don't make it onto trail maps.
Lake Sound is a 22-acre pond in the Speculator area — small enough to hold no formal fish surveys on record, remote enough that most paddlers heading into this drainage are passing through on their way to larger water. The name suggests early surveyor's terminology or a cartographic quirk rather than any acoustic feature. Access details are scarce in the standard trailhead databases, which usually means either private inholdings along the shore or a bushwhack approach through state land with no maintained path. If you're plotting a route in, confirm access and ownership with the DEC Region 5 office in Ray Brook before you go.
River Pond sits northeast of Tupper Lake proper — 22 acres, low-traffic, and one of those mid-sized ponds that doesn't make the short list but fishes quietly if you bring a canoe. No state-maintained access or designated campsites on record, which usually means private shoreline or informal carry-in from a nearby road. The name suggests it might sit near or between flow channels — common in this part of the park where ponds string together through beaver meadows and slow-moving creeks. Worth a knock on a local door or a call to a Tupper Lake outfitter if you're looking for brookies and solitude without the scenic-overlook crowds.
Hilliards Creek is a 22-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to paddle without circling back on yourself in ten minutes. The name suggests an old landowner or settler family, common in this part of the Park where logging camps and subsistence farms preceded the blue line. No fish species data on file, which typically means either unstocked native brookies that no one's bothered to survey, or a pond that winters too shallow to hold trout year-round. Worth a look if you're mapping quiet water in the Tupper orbit and don't need a marked trailhead to make it count.
Wolf Pond is a 22-acre pocket water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddling itineraries, which is exactly its appeal. No fish stocking records and no maintained campsites mean it draws locals more than through-traffic, the kind of place you hear about from a neighbor or stumble onto while exploring old logging roads. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and conifer cover typical of the mid-elevation transition zone around Saranac — quiet, undeveloped shoreline, decent for a solo paddle or a dog swim on a mid-week afternoon. Bring a topo map; access isn't signed from any main road.
Moonshine Pond is a 22-acre pocket water in the Long Lake township — small enough to stay off most paddlers' radar, large enough to hold a morning's worth of shoreline exploration. The name suggests bootlegger history (common enough in the backcountry during Prohibition), but no documented stories survive in the local record. No fish surveys on file with DEC, which typically means limited access, shallow thermocline, or both — though brook trout have a way of showing up in remote Adirondack ponds regardless of stocking history. Worth a look if you're already in the Long Lake area and hunting for solitude over trophy fishing.
Lizard Pond is a 22-acre water tucked into the woods near Speculator — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, but large enough to feel like a destination if you're working the backcountry ponds in the southern Adirondacks. No fish data on record, which either means it's been overlooked by DEC surveys or it's too shallow and warm to hold trout through summer — a common story for ponds in this elevation band. Access details are scarce, likely a bushwhack or unmaintained path from one of the logging roads that web through this part of Hamilton County. If you're poking around the Route 8 / Route 30 corridor and want water that isn't on the weekend circuit, this is the kind of name worth investigating.
Lake Tekeni is a 22-acre pond in the Old Forge area — a small, quiet water in a region better known for the Fulton Chain and the snowmobile corridor that runs through town. The name suggests Iroquois origins, though the pond itself sits well outside the documented territory of the Six Nations. No fish species on record with DEC, which usually means either limited access, minimal stocking history, or both. Worth a look on the DEC's boat launch inventory if you're working the Old Forge backcountry by canoe — ponds this size often connect to larger systems or sit on private inholdings with limited public easement.
Big Alderbed sits in the Speculator township — a 22-acre pond without formal fish survey data and little documented recreational traffic. The name suggests alder-choked shoreline, which typically means soft approaches, beaver activity, and brook trout potential in the inlet/outlet corridors even if the pond itself runs warm and weedy by midsummer. Waters like this stay quiet: no trail register, no lean-to, no weekend crowd — just the occasional local who knows the access and keeps it that way. If you're mapping ponds in the southern Adirondacks and cross-referencing USGS quads, Big Alderbed is the kind of dot that rewards the effort or reminds you why some ponds stay off the list.
Military Pond is a 22-acre water in the Keene town limits — a name that suggests Civil War-era history or surveyor's nomenclature, but the record is thin and the pond keeps a low profile in the drainage between Hurricane Mountain and the Ausable valley. No fish stocking data on file, no marked trailhead in the DEC inventory, and no lean-to or designated campsite in the immediate shed. It's the kind of pond that shows up on the topo but not in the trip reports — either private-adjacent, bushwhack-access, or simply passed over in a region dense with bigger, better-documented options.
Oregon Pond is a 21-acre water in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to slip past most fishing pressure, large enough to hold interest if you're looking for a paddle away from the village traffic. No fish data on record, which could mean unstocked, could mean under-surveyed, or could mean locals aren't talking. The pond sits outside the High Peaks corridor, part of the broader Saranac Lakes working landscape where state land intermingles with private holdings and access details tend to stay local. Worth a call to the regional DEC office or a stop at a Saranac Lake outfitter for current access intel.
Round Pond is a 21-acre pocket in the Paradox Lake region — one of those waters that shows up on the map but doesn't announce itself from the road. No fish data on file, which typically means it's either marginal habitat or simply hasn't been surveyed in the modern DEC stocking era. The Paradox Lake area sits in the transition zone between the High Peaks and the Champlain valley — less dramatic terrain, more working forest and seasonal camps than trailhead infrastructure. If you're poking around the area, assume limited or informal access unless you find a DEC easement or parking pull-off.
Sly Pond is a 21-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to slip past most paddlers but substantial enough to hold its own shoreline character. No fish species on record, which likely means it's either unstocked and unsampled or too shallow and vegetated to support a cold-water fishery worth documenting. Access details are scarce in the standard references, suggesting either private holdings around the perimeter or a bushwhack-only approach through the working forest blocks that dominate this stretch of the southwestern Park. Best confirmed locally before planning a trip in.
Rob Pond is a 21-acre water tucked into the Long Lake township — small enough to stay off most paddlers' radar, quiet enough to feel like you found it yourself. No fish species on record, which in Adirondack terms usually means it was stocked decades ago and hasn't been revisited, or it's a shallow basin that winters hard. The Long Lake area is laced with old logging roads and unmapped access points; local knowledge matters here more than DEC signage. Worth a call to the Long Lake town office or the Hamilton County tourism desk if you're chasing solitude and don't mind a pond that fishes like a maybe.
Cowhorn Pond is a 21-acre pocket water in the Tupper Lake township — small enough that it doesn't pull crowds, remote enough that local knowledge matters more than DEC signage. No fish stocking records and no established trail infrastructure mean this is a bushwhack or local-access situation, the kind of pond that shows up on the map but not in the guidebooks. The name suggests old logging-era nomenclature, possibly tied to a boundary marker or a cattle drive route before the Forest Preserve boundaries hardened. If you're going, bring a compass and a topo — and confirm access before you park.
Deer Pond is a 21-acre pocket water in the Raquette Lake township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the working forest and private holdings south and west of the main lake. No public access information on file, and no fish stocking or survey records in the DEC database, which typically means either private shoreline or a put-in so obscure it doesn't warrant maintenance. The name shows up on the USGS quad but not in most paddling guides — a bench player in a region dense with better-documented options. If you're poking around the Raquette drainage with a topo map and a hunch, it's there; otherwise, stick to the named routes.
Cranberry Pond is a 21-acre water tucked into the Old Forge working forest — one of those ponds named for what grows at the shoreline rather than what swims beneath it. No fish survey data on file with DEC, which typically means minimal stocking history and a pond that's either too shallow, too acidic, or periodically winterkills. Access details are thin: likely reached by seasonal logging road or unmaintained trail, and the kind of place you find by asking at a local outfitter rather than following a trailhead sign. Worth the scout if you're looking for solitude and don't need the promise of brookies.
Corner Pond is a 21-acre water in the Indian Lake region — one of those back-country ponds that doesn't appear on many hiking routes but holds a place in the network of remote stillwaters scattered across the southern Adirondacks. No fish records on file, which usually means limited stocking history and minimal angling pressure. The name suggests a surveyor's reference point or a property boundary from the old timber days, though the specifics are lost to local memory. Access details are scarce — check with the Indian Lake town office or the DEC Ray Brook office for current status on trails or bushwhack approaches.
Fuller Pond is a 21-acre water in the Schroon Lake region — small enough to feel remote, large enough to justify the effort if you're looking for quiet. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either wild brookies or nothing at all; worth a cast if you're already there, not worth the drive if you're chasing trout. The pond sits in that mid-Park zone where most visitors are passing through on their way to bigger water or higher trails — which is exactly why ponds like this stay empty. Access details are sparse; if you're hunting it down, check the DEC's most recent Schroon Lake unit map for unmarked approaches.
Church Pond sits off the grid in the working forest west of Tupper Lake — 21 acres tucked into the timberlands where camp roads and logging tracks outnumber trail signs. No fish stocking records, no lean-tos, no named trailheads in the state database: this is the category of Adirondack water that shows up on the DEC lists but not in the hiking guides, the kind of place you find by talking to someone at a bait shop or by studying the corners of a topo map. If you're looking for solitude and you know how to navigate unmarked access, ponds like Church are why you carry a compass and tell someone where you're going.
Grass Pond is a 21-acre water in the Raquette Lake region — small enough to feel tucked away, large enough to paddle without running out of shoreline in ten minutes. No fish data on record, which usually means light pressure and a pond that skews more toward quiet-water paddling or wildlife watching than angling destinations. The name suggests the obvious: expect emergent vegetation along the margins, likely pickleweed or wild rice stands by midsummer, and the kind of bug hatch that brings wood ducks and herons in early morning. Access details are sparse, so contact the local DEC office or check the latest edition of the *Adirondack Paddler's Map* before committing to a trip.
Buttermilk Pond is a 21-acre water tucked into the Brant Lake region — small enough to feel like a local spot, large enough to hold interest if you're fishing blind or paddling for solitude. No official fish species data on record, which usually means it's either been overlooked by DEC surveys or holds wild brookies that don't get reported. The pond sits away from the main tourist corridors — no named peaks looming overhead, no trailhead signs on the highway — so access is likely via town or private roads, and worth confirming locally before you load the canoe. If you're staying near Brant Lake and want water that isn't Brant Lake, this is the kind of place that rewards the ask-around.
Round Pond is a 21-acre water in the Brant Lake region — small enough to paddle in an hour, large enough to feel like you've gone somewhere. No fish species on record, but that's common for ponds in this size range that don't get stocked and don't hold populations that draw sampling attention. The name shows up on USGS maps and in DEC records, but details on access and shoreline character are thin — if you're planning a visit, confirm access and ownership locally before you go. Waters like this are often the quietest in the Park, precisely because they don't come with a trailhead sign and a lean-to.
Lower Moose Pond is a 21-acre pond in the Long Lake region — one of those mid-sized waters that sits off the primary recreation corridors and doesn't show up in the DEC stocking reports. No fish data on file, which usually means it's either a headwater pond with uncertain winter oxygen levels or it's simply never been surveyed in any systematic way. The name suggests it's part of a cluster — there's often an Upper Moose or a Moose River connection nearby — but without a formal access trail or a lean-to pulling traffic, this one stays quiet. Worth checking the Long Lake town maps or asking at the hardware store if you're looking for something genuinely off-roster.
Lydia Pond is a 21-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to stay off most radar, large enough to hold a canoe trip worth taking. No fish data on record, which usually means it's either too remote to stock or too shallow to survey, and given the acreage it's likely the latter. Access details are sparse in the DEC files, so assume this is either private-land-adjacent or tucked behind seasonal roads that don't make the trail register. If you're poking around the Tupper Lake backcountry and you find it, you're probably alone.
Sitz Pond is a 21-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough to miss on a map, quiet enough to have if you find it. No fish stocking records on file, which in the western Adirondacks usually means either unstocked brookies or nothing at all; worth a cast if you're passing through with a rod. The pond sits in working forest land where access and ownership can shift — check current DEC or timber company postings before heading in. Old Forge proper is the supply hub: gas, groceries, and the Adirondack Hardware that still sells minnows by the scoop.
Deer Pond is a 21-acre water in the Old Forge area — small enough to miss on a map, but part of the dense pond-and-stream network that defines this corner of the western Adirondacks. No fish species data on file, which typically means light fishing pressure and no regular stocking; it's the kind of pond that gets visited by paddlers threading between bigger waters or by hunters who know it from October. Access details are sparse in the official record — common for ponds this size in Old Forge's backcountry, where informal carry-in routes and old logging roads dominate. If you're planning a trip, confirm access and conditions locally before heading in.
Ross Pond is a 21-acre water in the Indian Lake township — part of the lower-elevation, less-trafficked southern Adirondacks where the ponds tend to be warmer, muddier, and more remote than their High Peaks cousins. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either natural brook trout populations in the inlet streams or warm-water species that arrived on their own. The surrounding terrain is second-growth hardwood and pine,典型 of the post-logging landscape in this part of Hamilton County — less dramatic than the peaks to the north, but quiet and genuinely off the main tourism corridors. Access details are sparse, so call the Indian Lake town office or the Northville DEC office before planning a visit.
Taylor Pond is a 21-acre water tucked into the Old Forge working forest — small enough to slip past most attention, big enough to float a canoe without feeling boxed in. No formal access documentation in the public record, which typically means informal shore access or a carry-in launch from nearby forestland; consult current DEC maps or ask locally before planning a trip. The pond sits in the transition zone where the central Adirondacks flatten into mixed hardwood and lowland bog — less vertical drama than the High Peaks corridor, more solitude per square mile. Fish data absent from state records, so treat it as exploratory water.
Munson Pond is a 20-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — one of the smaller named ponds in a corridor better known for its larger recreational lakes. Without a stocked fish population or maintained access, it sits in the category of unmaintained Adirondack ponds that serve more as wetland habitat than as fishing or paddling destinations. The region tilts toward private land and low-traffic woods, so unless you're already navigating the area by topographic map, Munson stays off the list. Check parcel lines before exploring — much of the Paradox Lake watershed is a patchwork of private holdings.
Grass Pond is a 20-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough that it rarely shows up on tourist itineraries, which is precisely the appeal. No fish stocking records on file, no marked trails leading to named peaks, no lean-tos or designated campsites in the immediate watershed. It's the kind of water that rewards local knowledge: a put-in for a canoe, a bushwhack destination, or a quiet afternoon paddle for anyone who knows where to park. Check with the Saranac Lake Islands Campground office or local outfitters for current access routes and ownership boundaries before heading in.
Mud Pond is one of those small, wooded ponds in the Lake George region that carries its name honestly — shallow, organic-bottomed, more wetland than open water, and the kind of place that fills in a little more each decade. At 20 acres it's not a destination water, but it holds its place in the drainage, quietly cycling nutrients and hosting frogs, turtles, and the occasional wood duck. No fish data on record, which tracks for a pond this small and soft-bottomed. If you're looking for solitude over scenery, and you don't mind a little muck underfoot, it delivers.
Curtis Pond is a 20-acre water in the Tupper Lake township — one of dozens of small ponds scattered through the working forest west of Tupper Lake village, most of them accessed by private logging roads or unmaintained routes that shift with active timber management. The state owns no formal public access point, which keeps the pond off most paddlers' lists and limits use to locals who know the current road conditions and landowner arrangements. No fish stocking records and no angler reports in the DEC database — it may hold native brookies, or it may be too shallow and warm to winter fish at all. If you're hunting for Curtis Pond specifically, call the Tupper Lake town office or stop at Raquette River Outfitters; access status here changes with harvest cycles and posted-land boundaries.
Slang Pond is a 20-acre carry-route pond between Long Pond and Turtle Pond in the St. Regis Canoe Area — no road access, paddle-and-portage only. Native brook trout in undisturbed water; a stop on multi-day canoe trips through classic Adirondack wilderness.
Wallface Ponds — a 20-acre cluster beneath the 3,700-foot cliff of Wallface Mountain — require a bushwhack from Indian Pass Trail. Native brook trout hold in these basins; few anglers make the trip.
Long Pond — one of dozens in the park with that name — sits in the Indian Lake township, a 20-acre water in the southern-central Adirondacks where the terrain softens from High Peaks granite into rolling hardwood forest. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means unstocked, unmanaged, and either brook trout water or fishless depending on pH and inlet flow. Indian Lake the town is a chain-of-lakes hub (the hamlet sits on the lake of the same name), and the smaller ponds in the township tend to be either roadside access or short bushwhacks off seasonal logging roads. Worth a call to the Indian Lake outfitters or the town office if you're chasing a put-in — local knowledge fills the gaps that the trailhead signs don't.
Dunk Pond is a 20-acre water in the Indian Lake township — small enough to hold no official fish stocking records, remote enough that most paddlers drive past without knowing it exists. The pond sits in the working forest west of NY-30, part of the patchwork of private timber company land and state holdings that defines the southern Adirondacks — access here depends on current easement arrangements and whatever seasonal logging roads happen to be passable. No maintained trails, no lean-tos, no peaks within striking distance — just a quiet pond in the woods that appears on the map and occasionally gets a canoe dropped in by someone who knows the back roads. Check with the Indian Lake town office or local outfitters for current access status before making the drive.
Little Polliwog Pond — 20 acres tucked into the Tupper Lake township backcountry — is one of those small waters that shows up on the DEC bathymetric survey but rarely on anyone's weekend itinerary. No stocking records, no established access trail marked on the standard maps, and no nearby trailhead signage to give it away. It's the kind of pond you find by studying topos, bushwhacking from a logging road, or stumbling into while hunting grouse in October. Worth confirming access and ownership before you go — much of the surrounding land is private, and the 20-acre footprint means you're likely wading through blowdown and wetland margin to reach open water.
Beaver Pond is a 20-acre pond in the Tupper Lake region — one of dozens of small waters in the area that share the name, a reminder that beaver engineering shaped more of this landscape than the logging era that followed. Without fish stocking records or nearby trail infrastructure in the directory, this is likely a put-in-and-paddle destination: check topographic maps for forest road access and expect shallow water, stumps, and active beaver work at the inlet. The Tupper Lake wild forest holds enough unnamed ponds and beaver flows to keep a canoe explorer busy for seasons. Bring a compass and a DeLorme.
Boottree Pond is a 20-acre stillwater in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to hold no formal fish surveys, quiet enough to stay off most paddling itineraries. The name suggests old logging-era nomenclature, though the pond itself sits in working forest country where access typically means gated logging roads or bushwhacking from nearby paved routes. No designated campsites, no marked trails, no stocked fish on record — this is the kind of water that shows up on a topo map and stays that way. If you're after solitude and can navigate by contour lines, Boottree delivers; if you need a trailhead and a DEC sign, keep driving toward the Wild Forest units closer to town.
Nate Pond is a 20-acre pond in the Indian Lake region — part of the broader southern Adirondack plateau where the terrain flattens out and the waters scatter across a mix of private land and state forest. No fish data on record, which often signals either marginal habitat or simply a pond that doesn't get enough pressure to show up in DEC surveys. Access details are sparse; many ponds in this drainage sit behind gates or require permission, so confirm access before planning a trip. The Indian Lake area tends to reward explorers willing to do the homework — this is old-growth country, not High Peaks traffic.
French Pond is a 20-acre water in the Old Forge township — small enough to stay off most touring lists, large enough to hold a canoe route worth paddling. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies or nothing at all, and no official trail or access point listed in the DEC inventory. The pond sits in working forest country where private land and state easements checkerboard the map, so access is the question you answer with a property-line map and a phone call to the local DEC office. If you can get there, it's the kind of place that rewards the effort with silence.
Blue Pond is a 20-acre water in the Tupper Lake region with no public species data on file — which in Adirondack terms usually means either private access, minimal pressure, or both. The name suggests it's been around long enough to earn local usage, but without a documented trail or DEC designation it's not showing up on the standard loop. Waters this size in the Tupper Lake corridor sometimes hold brook trout or perch if they're connected to larger systems, but you'd need local knowledge or a knock on the right camp door to confirm. If you're researching it for a paddle or a fish, start with the Tupper Lake town clerk or a conversation at the boat launch — someone will know which Blue Pond you're after.
Rock Pond is a 20-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — small enough to be overlooked, quiet enough to be worth finding if you're already in the area. No fish species data on record, which in Old Forge terms usually means either unstocked brookies or none at all; it reads more as a paddling destination than a fishing stop. The pond sits in a zone dense with bigger-name waters and snowmobile corridors, so access is likely seasonal road or trail rather than trailhead parking — worth a local check at the Old Forge Visitor Center before you commit the drive. Bring a canoe or kayak if you go; this is float-and-listen territory, not a swim-off-the-bank spot.
East Pool is a 20-acre pond in the Old Forge township — part of the low-elevation lake country west of the central High Peaks, where the park transitions from vertical relief to quietwater paddles and second-home shorelines. No fish data on file with DEC, which typically means either limited public access or a pond that doesn't sustain stocked populations — common for smaller waters in subdivided or private-land corridors. The Old Forge area is best known for the Fulton Chain and its feeder ponds; East Pool sits off that main axis, likely overlooked by most paddlers pushing toward bigger water or the Moose River Plains.
Loon Hollow Pond is a 20-acre pocket water in the Old Forge township — part of the sprawl of small ponds and wetlands that fill the low terrain west of the Fulton Chain. No fish data on file with DEC, which usually means either sterile water or a pond that's simply too shallow and oxygen-poor to hold trout through summer. The name suggests historical loon activity, though loons tend to favor larger, deeper water with rocky shorelines and minimal human disturbance. Access details are sparse — likely a bushwhack or unmarked logging road approach rather than a maintained trail.
Quiver Pond is a 20-acre water tucked into the Old Forge working forest — the kind of pond that shows up on a topo map but not in the trailhead conversation, which means it's either gated private, logged-over and difficult, or both. No public fish stocking records, no DEC campsite markers, no trail register to sign. The name suggests either an old hunting camp or a surveyor's inside joke; either way, it sits in that wide buffer zone between the resort corridor and the true backcountry, where access depends on landowner relationship and local knowledge. If you're asking about Quiver Pond, you're either looking at a deed map or you heard the name from someone who grew up here.
Waters Millpond is a 20-acre impoundment in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — the kind of small millpond that anchored a settlement crossroads before the reservoir economy took over. No documented fish surveys in the state database, which usually means local panfish and chain pickerel if the pond holds oxygen through winter, but you're prospecting without a map. The name suggests an old sawmill or grist operation; most of these ponds were working infrastructure before they became fishing holes. Access details aren't widely published — start with the town clerk in Northville or Edinburg if you're serious about finding the put-in.
