Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Long Pond sits in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — 19 acres of quiet water in a zone better known for reservoir recreation and seasonal camps than backcountry solitude. No fish species on record, which usually means either private access or enough angling pressure that DEC sampling hasn't justified stocking. The pond's position in the southern Adirondacks puts it outside the High Peaks corridor — less dramatic relief, more mixed hardwood and wetland edges, and a landscape shaped as much by 20th-century flood control as by glacial drift. If you're here, you're likely a local or you've followed a trail less traveled.
Hines Pond is a 19-acre water in the Great Sacandaga Lake region — small enough to stay off most paddlers' radar, large enough to hold interest for an afternoon if you're looking for quiet water away from the reservoir's motorboat traffic. No fish species data on record, which usually means either unstocked or not surveyed in recent years; worth a casting attempt if you're already there but don't plan a trip around it. Access details are thin — this is the kind of pond that either has a local dirt-road put-in or requires a bushwhack from a nearby trail system, and neither shows up in the standard DEC registers.
Bear Pond is a 19-acre pond in the Paradox Lake region — a quieter corner of the eastern Adirondacks where state land intermingles with private parcels and the names on the map outnumber the boats on the water. No fish stocking records and no established trailhead signage, which usually means either private access or a bushwhack approach through second-growth forest. The pond sits in that middle zone: too small for motorized traffic, too obscure for the weekend paddling crowd, likely to stay empty even in July. If you're headed this way, confirm access and ownership before you go — the Paradox Lake Wild Forest doesn't publish maintained trails to every named water.
Moss Ponds — plural, though often mapped as singular — sits in the Hurricane Mountain Wild Forest northeast of Keene, tucked into a low drainage basin that doesn't show up on most recreation maps. The ponds are wetland-adjacent, shallow, and beaver-active — more of a bushwhack destination for anglers testing the viability of native brook trout populations than a swimming or paddling draw. Access is informal, likely via old logging roads or unmarked trails from nearby Hurricane Mountain Road or Crow Clearing Road, though the precise put-in isn't well-documented. No fish records on file, which usually means either unstocked or unreported — but 19 acres of quiet water in the Keene drainage often holds brookies if the inlet stays cold.
West Vly sits in the southern Adirondack lowlands near the Great Sacandaga Lake basin — a 19-acre pond in an area where "vly" (the old Dutch term for wetland or marsh) shows up on half the water names within ten miles. The region runs more to bass, pike, and panfish than trout, but no fish survey data exists for West Vly specifically, and the name itself suggests marshy edges and shallow water. Access is unclear — likely private road or bushwhack — and the pond doesn't appear on the standard DEC paddling or fishing maps, which in this part of the Park usually means private shoreline or limited public interest. Worth a phone call to the nearest DEC office in Northville if you're serious about reaching it.
Clear Pond is a 19-acre water in the Indian Lake township — one of the many mid-sized ponds scattered across the southern Adirondacks that sits outside the heavily trafficked trail networks. No fish species data on record, which typically means either minimal stocking history or limited angler pressure to document what swims there. The pond's name shows up on USGS quads but not in the standard DEC access inventories, so getting there likely means private land negotiation or a bushwhack off a nearby logging road. Worth a call to the Indian Lake town office or local marinas if you're mapping overlooked paddles in the Blue Mountain Lake corridor.
Marsh Ponds sits in the working forest northwest of Tupper Lake — 19 acres split into two connected basins, typical of the glacial kettle ponds that dot the mixed hardwood and spruce lowlands in this corner of the Park. Access depends on current timber company roads and easement status; this isn't trailhead country, and conditions change with active logging. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means shallow water, soft bottom, and better habitat for painted turtles than trout. If you're driving between Tupper and Cranberry Lake and see the name on a blue DEC sign, you're in the right drainage — but confirm access before you walk in.
Black Pond is a 19-acre water in the Tupper Lake region — small enough to fish from shore, large enough to justify a canoe if you can get one in. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means wild brookies or nothing, and in ponds this size that usually depends on whether the inlet stream runs year-round. Access details are scarce in the public record, so if you're planning a trip, confirm the route with a local outfitter or the DEC Ray Brook office before you commit to the drive.
Blind Pond is a 19-acre water in the Tupper Lake township — small enough to slip past notice, remote enough that access details don't circulate widely, and unnamed on most recreational maps despite holding a place name in the DEC inventory. No fish survey data on record, which typically means either the pond doesn't hold fish naturally or it hasn't drawn enough angling pressure to warrant sampling. The name suggests either visual obscurity from surrounding terrain or historical logging-era usage — "blind" ponds often sat tucked behind ridgelines or timber operations. Worth noting only if you're cataloging every named water in the Park or hunting for genuine solitude within snowshoe range of Tupper Lake.
Middle Flow is a 19-acre pond in the Great Sacandaga Lake watershed — one of those small back-pocket waters that exists more as a local reference point than a destination. No public access data on file, no fish stocking records, no named trails leading in — which usually means either private shoreline or a bushwhack approach through lowland mixed forest. Waters like this tend to show up on survey maps and in the state's geographic inventory without much follow-through; if you're determined to fish it, expect to work for it. Check property lines before you go.
Botheration Flow — 19 acres tucked into the Indian Lake township — carries the kind of name that suggests either a surveyor's bad day or a local in-joke lost to time. No fish records on file, no nearby peaks to anchor a description, and no established trail intel in the current directory — which likely means private inholdings, difficult access, or both. Waters like this dot the deeper recesses of the park: known by name on the DEC inventory, visible on the topo, but functionally off the recreational grid. If you're determined to find it, start with the Indian Lake town clerk and a good relationship with a local who knows whose driveway not to block.
Fishpole Pond — 19 acres tucked in the Tupper Lake region — sits among the quieter, less-cataloged waters where the northwestern Adirondacks flatten into working forest and private timber tracts. No fish species data on file, which usually means either no recent DEC surveys or catch-and-release fishing pressure too light to warrant stocking records. Access details aren't widely published, so assume gated seasonal roads or private easements unless you've got a local contact or a DeLorme page with notes in the margin. The name suggests an old camp or a skinny shape — or both.
Lake Florence is a 19-acre pond in the Saranac Lake region — small enough to feel contained, large enough to paddle without circling back every ten minutes. No fish data on record, which usually means it's either marginal habitat or simply unfished and unreported; either way, it's not a destination for anglers. The name suggests turn-of-the-century private holdings or early resort history, common in the Saranac Lake corridor where camps and cure cottages once dotted every accessible shoreline. Check local access — many of these smaller named ponds are either privately held or require permission from adjoining landowners.
Mud Pond is a 19-acre pond in the town of Keene — one of several Mud Ponds scattered across the Adirondacks, and typically the kind of water that stays off the summer crowds' radar by virtue of name alone. No fish species data on record, which usually means a shallow, weedy basin that winterkills or simply doesn't hold trout — the DEC stocks where there's habitat worth stocking. The pond sits in the Keene drainage, east of the High Peaks corridor, in territory that tends toward private land and working forests rather than marked trailheads and lean-tos. If you're heading to Keene for Giant, Hurricane, or the Johns Brook Valley, this one stays in the rearview.
Spectacle Ponds — a 19-acre water in the Brant Lake region — sits in the middle tier of Adirondack waters that aren't entirely obscure but don't see the foot traffic of the High Peaks corridor or the boat traffic of the bigger lake towns. No fish species data on file, which typically means the pond either wasn't surveyed in recent DEC cycles or doesn't sustain a managed fishery — not uncommon for smaller headwater ponds in the southern and eastern zones. The name suggests a twin-lobed or figure-eight shoreline, a common Adirondack naming convention, though access and current usage details are thin. If you're heading in, bring a topo and confirm access routes locally — not every named water in the Park has a marked trail or public launch.
Massawepie Pond — 19 acres tucked into the Bog River / Limekiln Lake corner of the western Adirondacks — is a working pond in the old sense: it's part of a cluster of waters (Massawepie Lake to the north, the Bog River flow system to the east) that saw serious logging traffic in the early 20th century and still carries the scars and access traces of that era. The name is Abenaki — "place of much water" — and the pond itself sits in low, marshy country where wetland fingers connect one basin to the next. No fish data on record, which usually means either unstocked brookies or nothing at all. Access from the Old Forge / Thendara corridor runs through a maze of seasonal roads and private inholdings — confirm access and parking before committing to the drive.
Mud Pond is a 19-acre pond in the Lake Placid region — one of several waters by that name in the Park, and a reminder that not every named water comes with a trailhead sign or a stocking report. The acreage suggests something more than a beaver flowage, but without recorded fish data or established access, it's likely a bushwhack destination or a pond visible from a longer route rather than a standalone trip. If you're chasing down every named water in the Adirondacks, this is the kind of entry that keeps the project honest. Check the DEC unit management plan or the 7.5' quad for the Lake Placid area to confirm location and approach before heading out.
Hedgehog Pond is a 19-acre water tucked into the working forest northwest of Tupper Lake — small enough to slip past most maps, large enough to hold a canoe for an afternoon. Access details are scarce in the public record, which usually means private inholdings or gated logging roads; worth a call to the local DEC office or a stop at a Tupper Lake outfitter before planning a trip. The pond sits in that zone where state land fragments into private timber tracts and hunting camps — not remote wilderness, but quiet country where you're more likely to see a beaver lodge than another paddler. No fish data on file, but ponds this size in this landscape typically hold brookies or perch if they hold anything at all.
Shingle Pond is an 18-acre water tucked into the working forest southwest of Tupper Lake — small enough that it doesn't pull a crowd, large enough that it holds its own quiet presence in the low country between the High Peaks and the St. Regis Canoe Area. No fish data on record, which usually means either it doesn't hold fish or no one's bothered to sample it in decades; either way, it's not a fishing destination. Access is likely gated logging road or private easement — check with the local DEC office in Ray Brook before making the drive.
Rock Pond sits in the Old Forge corridor — a small, 18-acre water that holds its place in the dense cluster of ponds and streams threading through the western Adirondacks. No fish species data on record, which suggests either marginal habitat or simply a pond that doesn't pull angling pressure; either way, it's not a destination for a stringer. The Old Forge lake chain dominates access and attention in this area, so Rock Pond likely sees its visitors as spillover from paddlers working the interconnected routes or hikers cutting between better-known waters. Surface acreage puts it in the "find it on a topo map, bushwhack if curious" category — small enough to slip past casual notice.
Grassy Pond is an 18-acre water in the Indian Lake region — small enough to stay off most through-hiking itineraries, quiet enough to hold that position. The name suggests marsh grass at the shoreline, shallow bays, and the kind of pond that warms early and holds pickerel if it holds fish at all. No species data on file with DEC, which usually means either private, lightly fished, or both. Worth checking local access and ownership before driving in with a canoe.
Upper Feeder Pond is an 18-acre water in the Paradox Lake region — part of the drainage system that feeds south toward the lake itself. The name tells the story: this is working hydrology, not a destination pond, and it sits in quieter country east of the High Peaks corridor where the landscape flattens into mixed hardwood and the trail traffic thins out. No fish data on record, no maintained access that shows up on the standard DEC maps. If you're out here, you're likely threading your way through on a longer route or you've got a reason to be poking around the Paradox watershed — this isn't a trailhead-to-shoreline proposition.
Mud Pond — one of dozens in the Adirondacks — sits in the Indian Lake township, an 18-acre water that hasn't made it onto the fishing reports or the trail blogs. No fish species data on file, no lean-tos flagged on the maps, no obvious trailhead pull-off that would mark it as a day-hike destination. These are the ponds that show up as blue spots on the DeLorme but stay quiet: locals who know the access keep it to themselves, and the rest of us drive past on our way to bigger water. If you're poking around the Indian Lake backcountry and come across it, you'll have it to yourself.
Mud Pond is an 18-acre water in the Old Forge area — a working name that shows up on the topo and likely sees more moose traffic than human traffic in a typical summer. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means either native brookies that never got surveyed or a pond that doesn't hold oxygen through winter drawdown. Access details aren't documented in the standard trail inventories, so this is either private-access or bushwhack-only — worth a closer look at the DEC land classifications and a conversation with someone at the Old Forge visitor center before you plan a trip in. The Old Forge corridor has dozens of small ponds like this one: named, mapped, and mostly left alone.
