One of my favorite North American bird stories has had its well-worn neck wrung once again, this time by a British author. David Callahan has called the 2005 Arkansas search for the ivory-billed woodpecker "a notable failure" in his new book "The History of Birding in 100 Objects."

That's an interesting conceit in an otherwise entertaining book. More on that later.

I have not seen an ivory-billed woodpecker. I have looked unsuccessfully. Some of my favorite birding stories have been hatched by that bird, however. They would not be the same if based on a fiction.

Three times I have flown to New Orleans to go afield with True Believers. A fourth trip was made at the invitation of a fishing guide who meant well.

A friend of a friend of a friend told me that this fisherman knew the location of an ivory-billed nesting cavity. Understand that it was February, I had air miles, this guy offered to house and feed me, no charge. In February, here, that's a go.

Full speed ahead

We motored to his special place through a twisting bayou in a skiff pushed by an outboard engine. At one point the bayou was clogged side to side for about 50 feet with tangled arm-thick water lily roots. My host stopped to consider, then backed the boat up a bit. "To hell with it!" he said. "Let's give it a try."

We used the skiff oars to chop ourselves free. It took a long time.

At our destination, after we skirted poison oak and brambles, my host pointed at a hole in a dead tree. The hole was small. I don't know what you know about ivory-billed woodpeckers, but small doesn't cut it. Right on cue, a red-bellied woodpecker poked its head from the hole.

"That's not it," my guide said.

"Do you think there could be two kinds in there?"

He really asked that.

He later bought a gunny sack of crayfish, some ears of corn and beer. He dumped the crayfish into a barrel of highly spiced boiling water. We shucked and ate all of those crayfish, my share minor; I'm not a crayfish fan. I also got to watch a man catch shiny, wiggly eels from a nearby river. He planned to eat them. I would put them on the crayfish side of my plate.

The search continues

The other three trips were with serious, well-informed, highly experienced birders whose combined years of woodpecker hunts had produced a handful of disputed sightings. And that's OK, because all ivory-billed sightings are disputed, and there are but a handful.

(Searching for the bird continues. One of the hunts is known as Project Coyote because a participant is named Wiley. Check it at http://projectcoyoteibwo.com.)

Tramping the Louisiana woods is always fun. You can't fail, bird or not. On my last trip, friends and I also spent two evenings in the French Quarter of New Orleans. The photo opportunities were endless. We ate spectacular barbecue pulled from an oven the size of a pickup truck.

You almost could say the woodpecker is just a good excuse.

Calllahan's book was published in Britain. Many of its 100 objects are British in nature, but have American counterparts. The objects include binoculars, ID books and comfortable shoes — my three essentials — plus papyrus bird paintings, Gutenberg's press, pig-bristle paintbrushes, wax recording cylinders, and dozens of other things you would never guess.

It's an entertaining read. My copy came from the Hennepin County Library.

By the way, that Arkansas ivory-billed woodpecker was seen by people I know. The stories live on.

Lifelong birder Jim Williams can be reached at woodduck38@gmail.com. Join his conversation about birds at www.startribune.com/wingnut.