November 20 we made the long drive back up the west coast and turned inland to cross over to the east coast via Arthur’s Pass. It was a beautiful drive through a wide river valley that became narrower and greener as it wound up the mountains into the little town of Arthur’s Pass. A noisy Kea was the first creature to welcome us. There’s not much here but a general store, information center, three restaurants and a few backpacker lodges. They all play Bob Dylan, all the time. We stayed two nights at the Mountain House, paying NZ$70 for a room with a queen and twin, and shared bathroom. Steve got up in the middle of the night and went into the kitchen, where every vintage of Dylan enhanced his night owlery.
We hiked up to the Devil’s Punch Bowl, and got a close up view of an impressive 131 metre waterfall high up in the cool forest. Birdsong filled the air. Then we walked the Bridal Veil Track, which Steve considered a waste of time because we didn’t get very close to the fall, we had to walk along the power lines and road for much of the hike, and we ended up at the road, so we had to double back. The walk wasn’t a total waste, because a bold Kea flew right over Steve’s head and hung around while we took things out of our packs. He patiently posed for several photos, but when he saw that he wasn’t going to get a chance to steal any food or destroy anything, he eventually left.
Steve suggested we should try the Otira Track, which is above the bush line, so I thought it would be windy and barren. I wasn’t keen on it, but went along anyway.
It turned out to be spectacular alpine tundra, which I had never seen before. Steve says it’s like Sierra Nevada. We rocked hopped across several streams that had bushes of Mount Cook Lilies next to them. We can't get used to the clear turquise water everywhere.
Snow covered the mountain peaks, and somewhere up the river valley out of sight was a glacier. The highlight was sighting a Rock Wren, a new life bird. The tiny New Zealand variety is egg shaped, with hardly any tail at all. His back is olive and his lower belly is mustard yeloow. His pink legs and feet are way longer than they should be for his diminutive size, and as we approached, he did vigorous deep knee bends, probably in an attempt to scare us away from his nest. We were enchanted by his bravery, and gave him a wide berth. In the winter, he stays in snowy crevasses eating berries and insects. He is capable of going into a torper when necessary. He is an uncommon endemic, so we were particularly happy to meet him. 
We spent so long in Westland, we have run out of time to do all that we wanted to do. The trip feels like life in microcosm. Every decision made involves letting go of an opportunity. We had hoped to see our Tucson friends Sonya and Andrew, who now live in Christchurch, as well as Amy and Ming, relatives of clients of mine, who own a hostel in Christchurch, but we have to be far away in Te Anau in a week. We decided we had better start down the east coast so we don’t have to make another marathon drive.
I think I have spent more time agonizing over where to go and what to see on this trip than I usually spend on buying a house or changing jobs. The decisions about how to spend this vacation seem so important, because we don’t expect we will ever get back here again. We want to try to make every day count, as we should when we’re at home. Steve says we need to remember that we are in New Zealand now, and enjoy it, and not let the inconveniences and disappointments let us forget what an adventure this is today. When we get home, it will seem like a dream, so we need to be fully aware of how precious each day is. It would be great if we could carry this awareness of the value of every day back to our Tucson life.
