Arthur’s Pass boasts some brilliant scenery, an abundance of walking tracks and spectacular waterfalls. I love all that. But the main reason I wanted to spend some time here is nothing huge, it’s rather tiny actually. I came to find one of the New Zealand’s smallest birds – the somewhat elusive Rock Wren.
First thing I asked my hosts when I arrived in Arthur’s Pass Village was… “Where’s the loo?” I’m joking, even if I desperately needed to go, I’d still first ask where I could find rock wrens.
My host, a seasoned tramper who also happens to work for the Forest and Bird organisation, painted a picture (in my mind, not on paper – paper would have been more useful, my mind is a messy place) of the Otira Valley track and where exactly I should look for the tiny birds.
Day 1
On my morning off, I reluctantly headed out by 7am at first light, drove a short distance to the beginning of the Otira Valley track and started to make my way through the rocky and bushy terrain. After about 40min, I reached a rocky field that screamed to me home of the rock wren.
Needless to say, I discarded half of the instructions from my memory and realised at a later stage that I have not walked far enough and sat on hard stones for an hour for no good reason other than to contemplate life.
On my way back, I at least encountered an inquisitive tomtit and a bunch of redpolls, and I must say the views are beautiful wether you find a rock wren or not.
Day 2
Today I am going out in the afternoon. I went to the Arthur’s Pass visitor center and armed with further information and a second round of clear instructions, I felt confident. The weather is warm, blue skies as far as you can see. Moving through now familiar territory, I make my way through the bush, over the rocky fields, towards a bridge over the stream.
I meet a woman, and I must have “rock wren” written on my forehead, because all she says to me is “They are there”. Okay, she’s not psychic, my camera is usually a decent giveaway. She further instructs me to go past the bridge, turn to the right and look across the rocky fields there.
Excited now, I pick up my pace, cross a few little streams and get over to the bridge. A fellow birdwatcher is just coming down from further up the track, and I cease another opportunity for more information. “I met a woman, she said to look for them here” he says and points towards the rock field. “I waited for an hour but didn’t see them.” Deflated, we have a wee chat about other birds in Arthur’s Pass and are on our separate ways soon after. I scour the area for a while with no luck. Pressed on time, I start my return journey, entertained by huge dragonflies, huge grasshoppers, and… tiny butterflies. If I had a macro lens I’d be ecstatic, rock wren or not.
Day 3
Ok, if I were being dramatic, I’d say it’s now or never. I have a whole day off. The weather forecast is promising – overcast with sunny spells, a photographer’s dream. I have a packed lunch, I have cake, I have chocolate and a flask of tea. I have my camera, I have my binoculars, and I have listened to the rock wren call on repeat before heading out. I will spend a whole day in Otira Valley if I must (I’d rather not, I would really like to see some Kea and Riflemen as well).
I’m taking my time walking up, prepared to make good use of the day, and frankly – my body aches by now, it’s not the easiest terrain to walk on. I pass all familiar places and make it to the bridge. I encounter a couple with binoculars, we have our usual exchange about the fruitless searches, and I decide to continue further up the track.
This is now beyond the sign that says “Mountaineers only”, which I have been told is safe to ignore this time of year, as it is mainly a warning due to possible avalanches. Fuelled by curiosity to see what’s further up and beyond the next bend, I make it all the way to the beginning of the stream. And even then I follow a little further until I surrounded by mountains on one side and blessed with full views of the valley on the other.