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MARK STEIL: It's just about time to begin what Pete Landherr calls the marathon. He takes his scoop shovel inside the kiln, an arch-shaped structure made of bricks that looks like a stretched-out igloo.

The shelves inside are filled with nearly a thousand pieces of clay pottery made by Landherr and his students. Landherr says right now, they're delicate things.

PETE LANDHERR: Of course, it's a good material, this clay. And we work it so it's very consistent throughout. But it is essentially just a dry mud puddle-- yeah, pretty fragile.

MARK STEIL: But the fire will change that. It'll harden the clay and give the pottery a color that only wood flames can produce.

[SHOVELING ASH]

As he gets ready to fire the kiln, Landherr scoops up shovel after shovel of wood ash left over from the last time he used the kiln. The leftovers hint at the ferocity of what happens inside the kiln. One scoop brings up what used to be a dozen nails. Now they're melted together into a toothy ball.

PETE LANDHERR: The wood fire is-- it can be a harsh environment. It can also be a deceivingly slow and beautiful environment. The flames move ghostly and slow. You see a flame appear here and move very slowly and then disappear and reappear somewhere else.

MARK STEIL: Landherr piles wood in the kiln's firebox, strikes a lighter and the fire is underway. It's going to burn for a long time.

PETE LANDHERR: Four days.

MARK STEIL: Landherr has friends who help him feed the fire, but he says he'll be here most of the time.

PETE LANDHERR: And I pretty much tend it around the clock the last one and a half. I bring my lawn chair out here and a winter coat, and I'll just take catnaps.

MARK STEIL: He'll plunk his lawn chair down next to the kiln on a peaceful hilltop at the farm he, his wife and children live on near the town of Walnut Grove. The area is famous for being the one-time home of author Laura Ingalls Wilder.

This setting has a little of that pioneer edge to it. A three-quarter moon hangs overhead, the flames from the kiln light the darkness, from a distant pond comes the sound of geese, and further off, a coyote howls.

[COYOTE HOWLING]

By the fourth day, the fire is a constant popping roar. A half-dozen people are helping out piling more wood outside the kiln. At this point, someone needs to feed the fire every few minutes.

PETE LANDHERR: Side stoke, boys.

SPEAKER: 2,100 degrees, they tell me.

MARK STEIL: The pottery inside the kiln is glowing, white and orange. The flames are so hot, a friend stoking the fire wears a flame retardant suit. The orange glow from the blaze lights up the silver suit as though it, too, is on fire.

As the temperatures inside the kiln approach 2,400 degrees, Landherr orders some of the vents closed to restrict the flow of oxygen to the fire. He says this step is part of the art of making pottery. He says it's a way of letting flame and ash particles paint the pieces inside the kiln.

PETE LANDHERR: Depriving it of oxygen and creating that sooty atmosphere, that causes a lot of our nicest glazes to be what they are, the rich colors.

MARK STEIL: The smoky phase of the fire means things are nearly at an end. The helpers feed wood into the flames one last time. After four days of stoking and watching, an exhausted Pete Landherr can now let the fire die out.

PETE LANDHERR: I like it. I like things that involve me totally. You're completely part of it. And time stands still when you're completely involved in something.

MARK STEIL: After waiting a week, Landherr opens the kiln to see the results for the first time. He removes the bricks from the temporary front wall he built to seal up the kiln and steps inside.

PETE LANDHERR: Wow.

MARK STEIL: He picks up a cup with a surprising finish.

PETE LANDHERR: It just really got metallic. We burned a lot of boards this time at the end, and maybe we vaporized some nails.

MARK STEIL: Many of the pieces nearly match the autumn colors outside. They're done up in earthy shades of brown and orange. On a plate, something melted, maybe the corner of a brick had dripped onto the piece, leaving it with a unique signature. Landherr likes the surprises. He's already looking forward to six months from now, when he'll fire the kiln again.

Mark Steil, Minnesota Public Radio News near Walnut Grove.