Vast, silent, and almost ocean-like, the Ashokan Reservoir quietly stretches through the Catskills like a mirror dropped between mountains.
On calm days, the peaks double themselves in the water and on windy ones, the surface ripples like steel.
It feels remote, almost unreal—and yet every time you turn on the tap in New York City, you’re connected to it.
This is one of the most important landscapes in NYC’s daily life, and for more than a century, it’s been hiding in plain sight.

Located about 14 miles west of Kingston, the Ashokan Reservoir was built between 1907 and 1915 as the first major reservoir in the Catskills system.
At the time, it was among the largest water projects in the world.
To create it, New York City dammed Esopus Creek and flooded an entire valley—erasing more than a dozen hamlets, relocating thousands of people, and quietly redrawing the map of the region.
Today, the reservoir supplies up to 40% of New York City’s drinking water, flowing more than 90 miles to the city entirely by gravity.
No pumps. Just mountains, elevation, and one massive engineering gamble that worked.
But the story beneath the water is what gives Ashokan its almost mythical reputation.
To make way for the reservoir, entire communities—places like Olive City, Brown’s Station, and Ashton—were dismantled or burned according to Archaeology Magazine.
Homes, barns, schools, mills, churches, and even cemeteries.
Roughly 2,800 graves were exhumed and moved uphill; others were never recovered. When the dam was finally completed, steam whistles reportedly sounded for an hour straight, warning anyone still in the valley that the flooding was about to begin.
When water levels drop in especially dry seasons, traces of that lost world sometimes reappear: old stone walls, foundations, the ghostly geometry of former property lines. It all sort of gives the feeling as a kind of Catskills Atlantis—submerged, forgotten, but not entirely gone.
For most of its history, the reservoir wasn’t a place you could really experience. You could glimpse it from the road, maybe pull over at the dam, but access was tightly limited.
That changed in 2019 with the opening of the Ashokan Rail Trail.
The 11.5-mile crushed-stone trail runs along the reservoir’s northern edge, following the old Ulster & Delaware Railroad corridor that once cut through the valley before it was flooded.
Flat, car-free, and surprisingly expansive, it’s now one of the most scenic and accessible walks in the Catskills—stroller-friendly, bikeable, and lined with overlooks that open straight onto the water.
On the south side, the Ashokan Reservoir Promenade traces the top of the Olivebridge Dam, a massive bluestone-and-concrete structure you can walk across on a paved path. From here, the views are wide open: water on one side, mountains on the other, sky everywhere. Interpretive signs along the way explain how the reservoir works—and what once stood where you’re walking.

In winter, the whole place transforms. Wind sweeps across the open water, ice forms in shifting patterns, and the reservoir becomes a frozen mosaic under pale light. It’s bracing, stark, and strangely beautiful—one of the simplest cold-season walks in the Catskills, with almost no effort required.
You can’t swim here, and boating is tightly regulated, but obviously this is protected drinking water after all.
But that’s part of the experience: walking the edge of something essential, vast, and carefully guarded, then heading back into nearby towns like Phoenicia, Woodstock, or Kingston for warmth, food, and civilization.
The Ashokan Reservoir isn’t just scenery. It’s infrastructure, history, and a vanished valley all packed into one. And the reason NYC water tastes as good as it does.
A dreamy day trip, a quiet history lesson, and a reminder that some of the city’s most important places are far from the skyline—but deeply, invisibly connected to it.