The parking lot was full at 0730 (Mountaineers club training)at the Mount Si trailhead. We met a few runners who were coming down within the first 2.5 miles , Then met the "club" coming down the next mile. The trail is in good shape with very little mud or water on the trail considering the time of year. We hurried accross the top of Si, past the Haystack to the Teneriffe Road spur and accross the top of the ridge between Si and Teneriffe. This part of the trail was hard to follow due to snow and following "old" footprints in the snow. We could only imagine any view we might have had because it was very socked in with low clouds and rain.It looked like there may have been a few places that might have decent views up the Snoqualmie North Fork valley. We will have to come back on a clear day to find out. The snow was consistant all accross the ridge but pretty well packed with minimal post-holing. Finding the switchback to the main Teneriffe Road trail was tricky due to the snow and obscurity of footprints but it was finally found and was downhill from there. The snow cleared off the trail after about .5 miles and from there to the connector to Talus Loop the only issue was keeping your toes from jamming into the toe of your boot. WTA web site says Teneriffe road is an alternate "less steep" route to Mt Si. After it starts up with switchbacks there are places with 25-30% grade. I beg to differ with the "less steep" part. It does allow for better views on the way up however, with several spots that look out over the North Bend area. We opted to take the connector between Teneriffe Road and Talus loop Trail and were back to the Mt Si trailhead by 1:30 pm. We saw only 4 other people on the Teneriffe Road and connector trail portion of the hike. No GPS but guessing the total miles was between 9and 10. A great "loop" alternate to the straight up and down, fight the crowd, Mt Si trail.

Deep snow can cover bad behavior: untouched, white fields for clear-cut slopes; dense snowshoe track through summer-pitted scars and cobbles of logging road; a hoary canopy on ribbon-wrapped young trees; transgressions off trail; the erasure of the oil cans and rusted refuse of industry, now fixtures of some reclaimed areas.
The Teneriffe logging road slowly meanders up long, ankle-twisting, graceless switchbacks in summer. In winter, above the frost line the trail is an easily followed, circuitous snowshoe route that, on a clear day, offers views to Rainier, Si's Haystack and the raised hackles and rearing head of the Teneriffe summit ridge.
At 7:45am, there were two other cars in the Mt. Si parking lot, surprisingly empty for such a clear morning. Normally, I would cut across the upper Talus Loop trail at the "To Creek" sign to connect with the logging road, but today I simply followed new signs for K. Falls at the lower Talus Loop and emerged at an unmarked boot-path on the gravel road. To note the discreet entrance on the Teneriffe side, I arranged stones in an arrow and remarked that it opens soon before the black drainage pipe for the creek that I crossed on the way in.
The new, light dusting of powder on the lower trail thickened and smoothed the rutted road after a few miles, and at the spur that leads to the Haystack basin and is marked with an orange ribbon, I put on snowshoes and enjoyed track broken from previous days, now partially covered from last night's snow.
At 11:30, in anticipation of the push to come, I ate lunch in the clearing at the base of the steep alley on Teneriffe's rump which in summer can be a muddy scramble, swarming with mosquitoes. After the road's end, along the ridge, the snowshoe track disappeared a half mile from the summit, whose view is hidden in forest to its base.
The summit rises so steeply in that final ascent, that I poured out twenty pounds of water but still found myself sinking and sliding, gingerly testing each step and pulling myself from tree to tree. With snow so deep and soft over ice-slick rock, and with the slope's angle, snowshoes were more hindrance than help.
After six miles of solitude, I encountered another solo hiker who had ascended from Kamikaze Falls, where she had broken new trail in that final bid and had arrived just a few minutes before me. We may have been the only two to reach the top all day. It was gratifying to know that I was not the only one who had strongly considered turning back before that point, just shy of a hard-won and worthy goal. The views were perfect in all directions, to Baker, Glacier, Rainier and the Olympics. There was little wind and, for such a clear day, the air was not biting. For the first time in weeks, I was able to loll around taking pictures at a trail's terminus without putting on an extra fleece or even gloves.
Replacing my foot gear with MICROSpikes for the descent helped until I started post-holing on the saddle, where I switched back to snowshoes. Despite a fast pace on the way down, I decided to bypass the Mt. Si summit because I had lost so much time along the Teneriffe spine and because the late December afternoon sun was quickly sinking. Being used to the last few weeks of dark, overcast evenings, dusk came later than I had anticipated and as I left the Mt. Si lot at 3:45pm, my head regretted not taking the detour. After eight hours, my legs were happy enough to be at rest.

We had a very different experience from last week's report written by Hiker Jim. We hiked up the road past the cabin to the saddle. Lots of snow as we gained elevation, but sadly, it was all being bulldozed off the road by a company contracted to do so by the DNR. The workers said they were contracted to clear the road of snow and obstacles so trucks could get to the cabin, tear it down, and remove the debris. Sad to see the old landmark go.

There are no fall color shows. There are no berries. There are no pretty flowers. There is nothing but 4100 feet and 14 miles of rocky road. Zen.

I like this hike most for the fact that you rarely see anyone on it, even though it's no further out than Mt Si. Oh yeah, and it's a big long hill. Although the hike up is suitable for transcendental meditation (nothing to look at but your feet and the rocks you are trying not to trip on), the perch at the top has great views.

Today we shared the summit with a mountain goat and about a hundred thousand mosquitoes (having an end of summer hootenanny no doubt). The goat was amazingly stealthy, staying out of the dogs line of sight and downwind. He didn't seem too concerned about me. The dogs never knew he was there until he was long gone. The bugs eventually drove me off the summit. Even after a very liberal dousing of bug juice, they persisted, looking for any opening, any mistake. When they started crawling into the corners of my eyes, I decided I'd had enough.

I'd like to dedicate this report to Type E, a long time contributor to this site, and his buddy Baxter, who he recently lost. Although I've never met E, you get a sense of the kind of person he is from the photos he put up here http://www.nwhikers.net/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7986780, and you know that Baxter was a lucky dog. We 'spilled some kibble' on the summit in honor of you and Baxter, and all our other buddies who are no longer with us.