Every named pond in the Adirondack Park — quiet waters, lean-to destinations, swimming holes. Browse by region or jump to a name.
Alford Pond is a 37-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough to fish from shore in an afternoon, large enough to paddle without feeling hemmed in. No fish species data on record, which typically means it's either not stocked or not regularly surveyed; bring a map-and-compass set if you're exploring the surrounding terrain. The pond sits off the main recreation corridors, so it doesn't pull the weekend crowds that trail-accessible waters do — a quiet alternative when the Lake Placid area is running at capacity. Worth a call to the Ray Brook DEC office for current access details.
Bartlett Pond is a four-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid town boundary — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational radar, and remote enough that access details stay local knowledge. No fish stocking records on file, which typically means limited habitat depth or a shallow basin that winterkills, though some of these off-grid ponds hold wild brookies that never make it into DEC surveys. The pond sits outside the High Peaks corridor proper, so it's not a trailhead magnet or a lean-to destination. If you know where it is, you're either hunting the woodlot edges or you grew up within a few miles.
Big Cherrypatch Pond is an 11-acre water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it lives mostly in the local knowledge column, not the tourist circuit. The name suggests old clearings or burn scars where wild cherry moved in, a common Adirondack succession story, though the pond itself has likely grown back to mixed hardwood and softwood by now. No fish data on file, which often means either limited access or a pond that doesn't hold populations through winter drawdown. If you know where it is, you know why you're going — and that's usually the ponds worth the effort.
Black Pond is a six-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it likely sits tucked in forest away from main corridors, and without fish stocking records or named trail access in the DEC database. Ponds this size in the Lake Placid area are often remnants of old timber operations or wetland complexes that never made it onto the recreational map, though some hold brook trout that wander in from feeder streams. If you know where it is, you probably found it by accident or from a local tip. No formal access documented — which in the Adirondacks usually means bushwhack, private land, or both.
Three connected ponds at the headwaters of the Boreas River, acquired by New York State in 2016 as the centerpiece of the 20,758-acre Boreas Ponds Tract — the largest single addition to the Forest Preserve in a generation. Paddle-in or hike-in only via Gulf Brook Road. Mount Marcy and the Great Range fill the northern sky from the upper pond. Lean-tos and primitive sites along the shoreline. The single most photographed view in the newest wilderness areas of the Park.
Bradley Pond is an 8-acre backcountry pond at the foot of the Santanoni Range, reached via 3.9 miles of the Bradley Pond Trail from Tahawus. A lean-to sits on the shore — most visitors overnight here before summiting Santanoni, Panther, or Couchsachraga.
Calamity Pond is a 10-acre pond on the Calamity Brook Trail north of Upper Works, marked by the David Henderson memorial — the oldest monument in the High Peaks. Hike-in access only; most visitors pass through en route to Flowed Lands and Lake Colden.
Cameras Pond is a 10-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough to slip past most hikers, large enough to hold its shape on a topo map. No maintained trails, no lean-tos, no fish stocking records — which means it's either a bushwhack destination for someone with coordinates and curiosity, or a name you pass on the way to somewhere else. The pond sits in that middle category of Adirondack water: not remote enough to feel like a discovery, not accessible enough to justify the detour unless you're already in the neighborhood. Worth a look if you're mapping the area; worth skipping if you're chasing trout or a sunset swim.
Cheney Pond is a 12-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it doesn't anchor a major trail system, but typical of the mid-elevation ponds that fill the gaps between the tourist corridors and the High Peaks proper. No fish species on DEC record, which usually means limited stocking history and a shallow basin prone to winterkill, though brook trout sometimes work their way into these systems via inlet streams. The pond sits off the main recreation grid — no named peaks within striking distance, no lean-tos in the immediate watershed — which makes it more of a local or incidental destination than a planned outing. If you're near Lake Placid and looking for solitude over infrastructure, it's worth a look.
Coldspring Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it rarely appears on recreation maps and quiet enough that most visitors to the area never register its name. No fish species on record, which typically means either it's too shallow to hold trout year-round or it's never been stocked and surveyed by DEC — common for ponds under ten acres in private or mixed-access watersheds. The name suggests a spring-fed source, and the "cold" prefix often correlates with clear water and a gravel or bedrock bottom. Worth confirming access status and ownership before planning a visit.
Connery Pond sits at the foot of the Sentinel Range along NY-86, halfway between Lake Placid village and the base of Whiteface. A short walk-in from the highway lot (under a mile, mostly flat) gets you to a DEC lean-to on the east shore — a popular base for paddling the pond, a Whiteface day climb up the Memorial Highway, or as a quieter alternative when Heart Lake is full. Brook trout fishing, swimming off the shoreline rocks. The view of Sentinel and McKenzie from the pond is one of the underrated Lake Placid–corridor frames. Memorial Day weekend the lean-to fills fast — get there Thursday night.
Cooper Kill Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it rarely appears on recreational lists, quiet enough that it stays that way. No fish data on record, no trail register, no lean-to — the kind of water that serves as a landmark on a bushwhack route or a turnaround point on a dirt road rather than a destination. The name Cooper Kill follows the Dutch colonial convention (kill = creek), suggesting the pond drains into a small tributary system rather than holding any depth or flow of its own. If you're looking for it, you already know why.
Copperas Pond sits in a small bowl off NY-86 between Lake Placid and Wilmington — a 0.6-mile hike from the highway trailhead and one of the most accessible quiet ponds in the High Peaks corridor. Three primitive DEC-designated tent sites line the shoreline; the Eastern Shore site, set on a flat granite shelf at the water's edge, is the prize. The pond connects to Owen Pond (south) and Winch Pond (east) via a 2.1-mile loop trail — a classic family hike and a sensible basecamp for day-hiking Cascade, Porter, or Pitchoff. Brook trout in the pond; brookies and the occasional rainbow in the connector streams. On Memorial Day weekend the three sites are claimed by Friday afternoon.
Cranberry Pond is a 32-acre water tucked in the Lake Placid region — one of dozens of mid-sized ponds in the northern Adirondacks that sit just outside the High Peaks spotlight. No fish species on record, which typically means either limited access, shallow bottom conditions that don't hold trout, or a history of winterkill that never got restocked. The name suggests the pond edges hold sphagnum mat and the kind of boggy shoreline that makes bushwhacking tough and keeps most paddlers looking elsewhere. Worth checking DEC maps for trail access if you're local and curious — but this isn't a destination pond for anglers or campers passing through.
Duck Hole is a 30-acre pond in the Cold River backcountry, reached only by multi-day backpack on the Northville-Placid Trail. The historic dam washed out in 2011; what remains is a smaller basin with lean-tos and full wilderness solitude.
Flowed Lands is a 90-acre beaver flow between Upper Works and Lake Colden, its water level lowered after a 1979 dam removal. Lean-tos ring the shore; the MacIntyre Range rises to the west — reachable via Avalanche Pass or the Calamity Brook trail from Upper Works.
Holcomb Pond is a 27-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough to stay off most regional itineraries, large enough to hold a quiet morning paddle if you can find the access. No fish species data on record, which either means it hasn't been surveyed recently or it's shallow enough to winterkill in hard years. The pond sits in transition forest between the High Peaks corridor and the working landscape to the north — more likely to see a great blue heron than a climbing party. Worth a look if you're mapping overlooked water in the region, but confirm access before you load the canoe.
Hudson River — the pond, not the iconic waterway — is a two-acre backcountry stillwater in the Lake Placid region, tucked far enough off-trail that it doesn't appear on most paddlers' radars. The name is a historical artifact: many small Adirondack ponds bear the names of surveying-era landmarks or nearby drainages, sometimes lending outsized identity to modest waters. No fish data on file, no formal access trail, no lean-tos — this is a bushwhack destination for orienteering types or hunters working the perimeter ridges. If you're expecting the river, keep driving south.
Hunter Pond is a small two-acre pocket tucked somewhere in the Lake Placid region — minimal surface area, no documented fishery, and no obvious trailhead or public access infrastructure that registers in the DEC inventory. It's the kind of water that shows up on USGS quads but rarely in trip reports: either landlocked by private holdings, or remote enough that paddlers and anglers route around it. Without species data or a known put-in, it exists more as a cartographic footnote than a destination. If you're hunting for quiet water in the Lake Placid area, you're better off with Copperas, Owen, or Oseetah — all of which offer confirmed access and something swimming below the surface.
Lake Arnold is a one-acre pond tucked somewhere in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it doesn't register on most recreational radar and likely named for a local family or early surveyor rather than any geographic prominence. No fish stocking records and no established camping or trail infrastructure in the immediate vicinity, which means it's either a seasonal wetland, a private holdout, or one of those dozen forgotten ponds that only appear on DEC wetland maps and old USGS quads. If you're hunting it down, you're doing it for completeness or because you found it by accident bushwhacking between better-known destinations.
Lake Jimmy is a 39-acre pond in the Lake Placid corridor — small enough to paddle in an afternoon, large enough to feel like its own destination rather than a trailside accent. The name suggests a local naming convention (probably mid-20th century, possibly a camp owner or guide), but state records don't list fish species or maintain formal public access infrastructure — often the mark of a water tucked into private or semi-private holdings. If you're hunting it down, confirm access and parking before you commit; not every named water in the Park opens its shoreline to day-use visitors.
Lake Sally is a 44-acre pond in the Lake Placid region with limited public information on file — no species data, no documented access routes, no nearby trailheads flagged in the standard references. It sits in the broader orbital zone of Lake Placid proper, likely private or roadside with restricted access, which is typical for smaller named waters in this corridor that predate modern recreational mapping. If you're targeting it specifically, start with the local DEC office in Ray Brook or the town clerk — they'll know whether there's a public right-of-way or if it's strictly a shoreline-owner pond. No guarantees on fish, but most Adirondack ponds this size that aren't stocked or maintained drop off the angler radar within a generation.
Lake Stevens is a one-acre pond in the Lake Placid region — small enough that "pond" is the more honest term, though the name stuck. No fish species data on file, which likely means it's either stocked inconsistently or holds small native brookies that don't draw much angler attention. Without documented access points or nearby trailheads in the curated directory, it's either private, roadside with minimal pull-off, or tucked into a corner of the township that sees more local use than through-hiker traffic. If you know the water, you know it — if you're looking for it on a map, start with the Lake Placid town clerk or a DEC regional contact.
Little Cherrypatch Pond is a five-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it likely holds brook trout if it holds fish at all, though DEC records show no survey data and no stocking history. The name suggests old logging-era nomenclature, the kind of water that shows up on USGS quads but not in guidebooks. Without documented access or a maintained trailhead, this is either private, bushwhack-only, or both — worth confirming ownership and approach before planning a visit.
Livingston Pond is a three-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid corridor — small enough that it doesn't appear on most trail maps and rarely shows up in regional fishing or paddling logs. No fish species data on record, which typically means either unstocked and unsampled or too shallow and acidic to hold trout through summer — common for the smaller High Peaks waters tucked into spruce drainages. The name suggests private or semi-private history, and without public access information on file it's likely either landlocked by private parcels or accessible only by bushwhack. If you know the put-in, it's the kind of place you keep to yourself.
Loch Bonnie is a two-acre pond tucked into the Lake Placid township — small enough that it rarely appears on anything but the most detailed maps, and quiet enough that most visitors to the region never hear the name. The "Loch" suggests Scottish-influenced naming from the late 19th or early 20th century, when European placenames were in fashion across the Adirondacks, though the pond itself predates any romanticism. No fish species data on record, which typically means limited depth, heavy vegetation, or both — a place for dragonflies and wood frogs, not anglers. Worth tracking down if you're compiling a completist list of named waters in the Lake Placid corridor, but manage expectations accordingly.
Marcy Dam Pond is a 5-acre pond at the High Peaks' busiest trail junction, where the original dam stood until Hurricane Irene took it in 2011. Wright Peak and Mount Phelps frame the water — a reliable vista on the way to Marcy, Algonquin, or the interior ranges.
Marsh Pond is an 11-acre water tucked into the broader Lake Placid region — small enough to scan in a single glance, large enough to hold the quiet when you need it. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means native brookies if anything, or it's simply a wetland holding basin with beaver activity and seasonal depth. The name tells the story: expect soft edges, marsh grass, and the kind of shoreline that keeps casual visitors at a distance. Worth a look if you're already working through the area's less-trafficked ponds, but confirm access and conditions locally before committing to the bushwhack.
Moose Pond is a 26-acre water just outside Lake Placid village — close enough to the Olympic complex that you can hear the bobsled run on a quiet winter morning, but far enough off the main corridors that it holds its privacy. The pond sits in mixed hardwood and hemlock, shallow enough to warm by mid-June and ringed by private parcels that keep public access minimal. No fish data on file, which usually means it's either stocked irregularly or not at all — worth a call to the Ray Brook DEC office if you're planning to wet a line. A local spot, mostly — the kind of water that shows up in conversation but not on trail maps.
Mountain Pond is a 30-acre water in the Lake Placid region with no public access data on file and no fish species formally recorded by DEC surveys — which usually means either private land or a pond tucked behind enough terrain that it doesn't pull fishing pressure. The name suggests elevation, but without trailhead or lean-to references in the state database, this is likely a backcountry water reached by bushwhack or a pond that straddles private/public boundaries. If you're chasing unmapped water, cross-reference the DEC Unit Management Plan for the subunit and check property lines; otherwise, this one stays off the list until access is confirmed.
Mud Pond is a 3-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it won't appear on most recreational maps, and typical of the dozens of unnamed or lightly-named ponds that dot the lowland corridors between the High Peaks drainages. No fish stocking records, no formal trail access, no DEC campsites — this is either private, landlocked by posted parcels, or tucked into a wetland complex where the shoreline is more alder thicket than open water. If you're looking for a swimmable or fishable Mud Pond in the Lake Placid area, you're likely thinking of a different water with better road or trail access.
Mud Pond sits north of Lake Placid village — one of several small ponds in the area that share the name, this one tucked into working forest where the shoreline shifts between alder thicket and second-growth hardwood. At 16 acres it's marginal for paddling and off the radar for most anglers, though ponds this size in the region often hold self-sustaining brook trout populations that DEC hasn't surveyed in years. The lack of formal fish records doesn't mean the pond is fishless — it means it's small, obscure, and low on the stocking priority list. Worth a look if you're already in the area and curious about what lives in the shallow end of the Adirondack pond spectrum.
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.
Oncio Pond is a seven-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it rarely shows up on anyone's radar, which is exactly why it matters to the handful of paddlers and anglers who know it. No fish species data on file, which usually means either brook trout that no one's bothered to report or a pond that doesn't hold fish through the summer. Access details are sparse in the DEC records; if you're heading out, bring a topo and expect to work for it. The reward is a quiet pond where you're unlikely to see another boat all day.
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.
Scott Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it likely sees more moose than anglers, and remote enough that it doesn't appear on most recreational radar. No fish stocking records, no maintained trail reports, no DEC campsite designations — it's the kind of water that exists as a blue dot on the map and little else. If you're hunting for solitude or checking off every named water in a township, Scott Pond delivers; if you're looking for a destination swim or a trout fishery, keep driving. Verify access and ownership before bushwhacking in.
Tom Peck Pond is a 9-acre water tucked into the Lake Placid region — small enough that it lives mostly in the local knowledge column, rarely mentioned in guidebooks or on the trailhead board. No fish survey data on record, which typically means either too shallow for reliable trout habitat or simply overlooked by DEC sampling crews over the years. These quiet ponds often serve as picnic-spot destinations for families with young hikers, or as waypoints on longer loops that connect better-known waters. If you're heading out, confirm access and current trail conditions at the local ranger station — the 9-acre ponds tend to shift between "maintained trail" and "unmarked bushwhack" depending on volunteer effort and storm blowdown.
Upper Bartlett Pond is a one-acre pocket water in the Lake Placid township — small enough that it's functionally off the recreational radar, with no fish stocking records and no maintained trail access in the DEC inventory. These micro-ponds typically serve as headwater feeders or wetland buffers rather than destinations, and Upper Bartlett fits that profile: it's the kind of water you'd only encounter if you were bushwhacking between larger systems or studying wetland hydrology on a quad map. No camping infrastructure, no angler pressure, no reason to visit unless you're a completist or a drainage nerd. If there's a Lower Bartlett, it's not showing up in the state's named-water records either.
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.
Warren Pond is a three-acre pocket of water in the Lake Placid region — small enough that it doesn't anchor a trail system or pull crowds, but named and mapped all the same. No fish stocking records on file, which usually means it's either too shallow to winter trout or it's been off the DEC radar for decades. The acreage puts it in that middle category: not a vernal pool, not a destination — more likely a put-in spot for a canoe if you know the access, or a landmark you pass on the way to something else. Worth confirming access status before hauling gear; many small named ponds in the region sit on private land or require permission.
Winch Pond is the easternmost link in a trio of small ponds off NY-86 between Lake Placid and Wilmington — Copperas Pond to the west, Owen Pond between them — connected by roughly two miles of rolling trail through mixed hardwood and conifer. At eight acres, it's the smallest of the three, tucked into a quiet basin with no designated campsites and minimal shoreline traffic; most hikers treat it as a turnaround point or a midday lunch stop on the loop. The pond sees occasional fishing pressure for brook trout, though no stocking records or survey data exist in the DEC files. Access is via the Copperas Pond trailhead on NY-86 — plan on 1.5 to 2 miles depending on which direction you take the loop.
