The Flames.

When you lose a person with whom you've shared a rope, whether a few climbs or a few hundred, a piece of you goes missing.

Climbing is one of the activities that truly creates a bond between participants, one that transcends age
We met on rec.climbing (usenet) before the days of social media and first climbed together in Cochise Stronghold. His oldest son Eric was 6 at the time. A friend and I hiked up the approach to meet him and his son after they bivyed overnight at the base.

I recall Marti asking me to please take a jacket up for Eric as it was cold that morning. We had a great time on What's My Line (5.6) in spite of me doing a 'super pendulum' and jacking up my ankle. They hiked back to the east side and did the long drive around to come pick me up, so I could limp my way out to the West Stronghold (easier hike)
Climbed together in Sedona and more recently in Scottsdale... not often enough with work, family priorities. He always amazed me with his boundless enthusiasm and ability to squeeze in adventures anywhere he went. He always extended an open invite to come visit.
Some shots of the last time I had the opportunity to climb with him, Eric and Katherine. We did the regular route to the 5.8 finish on Pinnacle Peak in N. Scottsdale
Rest in peace.. who am I kidding.. John Peterson would never rest! May your soul be ever leading onward and upward!
With much love and healing thoughts to his family.

-Tim Schneider


I've known Marti and John for nearly 40 years. I met Marti while working in the data processing center at DU in the summer of 1978 (or was it '77?). I remember her telling me about a very interesting, unique, outdoorsy guy who had taken a fancy to her. Turns out this guy knew my dad well (Lou of Lou's Music Box). Like myself, John loved music while studying Computer Science in college. Marti and I traveled to Europe together in the fall of 1980, and by that time, she and John were quite serious about one another. My family attended John and Marti's wedding in 1981, which, of course, was outdoors in the beautiful Rocky Mountains. Lucky for them, it didn't rain! After they moved away from Colorado, we visited them two or three times in Utah, and remained quite friendly. I can recall numerous skiing trips with them, as well as a few hikes (although I never had any hope of keeping up with John).

I will always remember John's smile, enthusiasm, and zest for life. Like my husband, he left us while enjoying what he loved, but unfortunately all too soon. He will be sorely missed. My heart goes out to Marti, Jay and Eric in this time of grief and loss.

 Heidi Schnicker


Freshest in my memory of John was our visit last summer. It was a whirlwind of fun activities that my kids were only able to do because of John. He will be missed terribly. Our hearts are broken but we have so many wonderful memories of John and we will hold them close as they are very dear to us. Last summer in the short week we had with John we saw many nice sites around Gunnison. I was able to get him into a gondola at the continental divide, as we did not have the time to hike to the top. He was great entertainment for my kids. We also enjoyed Black Canyon & Telluride with the cable walk for a bit with my then 7 year old daughter. We chickened out, but I left my 12 year old son in his care as they continued and did other exciting climbing adventures. We would never have gone to Telluride to see the wonderful waterfall if we had not been shown it by John. A favorite thing for my son. Rafting close to his home in Gunnison was the most picturesque experience with a double rainbow as John took them over the rapids. My memories of John go back to as early as I can remember as my family went hiking with John’s family almost every summer in my youth. My husband, Andrew Pitcher, was able to attend most trips and really liked the long raft trips. We are very grateful John gave so much of his time to make arrangements for the activities when we would visit Colorado every year starting when our boy was 5 years old.

-Anne Devries


John asked me once, after a very long day of climbing, if "this was the most wasted I'd ever been." It was. I could barely lift my head from the table of the Burger King we had stopped to refuel at. After a little reflection, I'm sure my top five (ten?) most "wasted days" were spent adventuring with John. Walking down from Sheepshead or Tahquitz, or Cannon, in the dark, stumbling on wobbly legs, was the perfect end to a day out with John. I can't remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, but I can remember every pitch, every move on those routes. So maybe I'd turn it around: many of my most memorable days were spent adventuring with John.

Thank you John, for all of the fun. I'm so happy that you were my friend.

-Michael Soo


Our campus is smaller without John. He had big ideas—bigger than most of us, bigger than many of us were able to imagine figuring out a way to incorporate. He had diverse interests. Not in the way that we all claim to, and may dabble in a little, or imagine that we might follow up on someday, but really diverse and interests over decades, and strong enough to the point of collaborating to invent new fields of study and ways of teaching, and consistently organizing his life around. I don’t know anyone else who combined honeymooning with mountaineering, and crag climbing AND attending operas (which, of course, also makes his wife Marti also one of those few very interesting people we should all aspire to be!).
Recently, I began to feel that John and I were in a special club that met about twice a week—when our trajectories back to, and away from our offices intersected on the way from/to rehearsals of the choir and wind symphony; faculty members taking a break from our jobs to do what we really enjoyed most. We didn’t talk about it, and didn’t need to, to recognize the kindred spirit in the other as our paths crossed. I’ll miss him, and our regular club ‘meetings’, and seeing him joyfully play his trombone.

-Philip Crossley


I'm sorry to say I didn't really know Dr. Peterson at all, except as an exceptional colleague to my older brother, John Wacker, and as a wonderful friend to John's family of Nancy, Brian, and Elizabeth, after he was killed in a car accident on Mother's Day 2014 while traveling to Boulder during a Spring snowstorm.

Dr. Peterson was also very kind in leading a group of individuals who put together a book with all the comments and photos on my brother from his FB page and the memorial page that is still up on Western's site. A wonderful tribute, and one that my entire family - parents and younger brother - absolutely treasure.

Without a doubt, a most giving and caring individual, and certainly a tremendous loss to the entire Western and Gunnison community. My wife Terri and I extend our deepest sympathies to his wife and two children. I'm sure the same love and care that surrounded Nancy, Brian, and Elizabeth, will be the same for Dr. Peterson's family at such a heartbreaking and difficult time.

-Jeff Wacker


John, we all will really miss you.

How can I write anything worthy of such a great human being? The number of tributes here and on Marti's page attest to what an extraordinary, universally loved, and occasionally weird (but, nice weird) person you were.

How many stories can we all tell about sharing "adventures" with you, especially when you pushed us beyond our comfort zone (which you almost always did)? Well, I have many because I have know you and Marti since the late 1980's when we were all U of U grad students together.

There was the time when you caught my leader fall on Hobbit Book in Yosemite, and I ended up hanging upside down staring you in the face from about 3 feet away.

Or, on that same trip there was our epic climb of Snake Dike that you, Marti, and I did when we summited at 6 PM. We ended up walking down the trail in the dark with me being the only one who had brought a headlamp that I shared with you two.

But, I think my most memorable adventure with you was in 2008 doing what I called "24 Hours of Le Moab" when you picked up Simon Peyton Jones at the SLC Airport and then drove to my condo in Sandy. After that -- all in the next 24 hours -- we drove to Moab (about a 3 1/2 hour drive), kayaked on the Colorado river (I drove the car shuttle), did an evening hike to Fisher Towers, did a moonlight hike to Delicate Arch starting at about midnight (but, you told us we couldn't take headlamps because it was a full moon night -- bad idea), drove back to our campsite along the river and crashed for a few hours, went mountain biking in the Moab Bike Park at Sand Flats (something way beyond my ability and experience), rode our bikes on the road along the river to check out the petroglyphs, and then drove back to Park City. We went back to Park City instead of Salt Lake because you and Simon were joining Prof. Paul Hudak's computer science workshop where you were, of course, the outdoor recreation activities director (boating, climbing, hiking). Whew!

Well, I guess the MacDonald's in Heaven now has a new greatest customer. But, I heard their stock back down here on Earth plummeted 50% Monday morning.

-Lew Hitchner

I was a friend of John's from Yale where he got me into climbing, for which I am eternally grateful to him.

We skied, we ice climbed, he stuck me on lead, above all I had a lot of fun. Came back to North America again and again and it was an adventure every time. Arizona, Red Rock Canyon, New England, Gunks, etc. Visited him in Colorado, we climbed Black Canyon. John was an inspiration. He knew how to have fun and literally everyone *always* had fun. Always.

So many people will miss him. It almost feels like the amount of fun in the world will never be the same....

-Andrei Serjantov


He and Brian shared a love of opera as well as mountain biking....and he was always inviting us to go with him to see an opera, a concert or to go mountain biking. He is the reason the four of us finally went on a raft trip and had an amazing time. He also made numerous trips to see us after we moved to Cheyenne. I'm so grateful to John for his kindness and positivity when we needed it most.
This is a such a great loss for the community, the university, his family, his friends.

-Nancy Wacker


In my view, John was the model for a liberal arts and Western professor. He was always available to help his students, loved the beautiful area we live in, and was active in the arts, particularly music. From time to time, John would visit my office to tell me about an opera he was going to see or remind me of an upcoming concert on campus. At concerts, John usually sat in the same area of the concert hall, and it will be sad not to see him there at the next one. I imagine John continue to blow his horn in heaven.

-Nancy Gauss


I think my climbing partner (Leon) and I met John while climbing at the Gunks in late 2000 with a bunch of other Connecticut climbers. We were newbies, but he didn't mind at all. Late in the day we ended up climbing with him on Minty. John led it and, because we only had one rope between us, had Leon and I tie in 15 feet apart on the other end to follow. John decided to do the first two pitches in one go. So we had to stop belaying and just start climbing after him. Scared the sh#t out of us.

When Leon left for Seattle the following Spring I started climbing with John whenever I could. I met Marty and the boys, I think his dog even bit me once. John mentored me for about a year and a half, recognizing in me a willing belay-slave he could drag around CT ticking off all the crappy little climbing crags that he knew about. I also went with him to go climbing in the Gunks (NY), Seneca Rocks (WV), The Stronghold (NM) and Cannon (NH). Over that time I came to love and fear him in equal measure.

John introduced me to some of the best friends I have ever had. He took me on adventures I will never forget. I knew him for only a short time, but he was an inspiration.

-Keith Hoek


John was so much more than a friend and teacher. He was a mentor and helped shape my life to be what it is. I have only known john for the past 5 years but in that short time he became one of the most important and influential people in my life. Ever person has those select few men that help define them, their Father being the first. John was one of those men. He was able to pick up on all my strengths and weakness and make me better at everything I do. From the moment I met him be believed in and pushed me to be all that I could be.

He became a steadfast friend like he did to everyone he met and wouldn't take no for an answer. When my daughter was born you visited us to see her every chance you got and I was so happy that she would get to grow up with a role model like you in her life. She will know you and everything you have done for her Father.

John showed what it means to adventure and to live life to it's fullest and for that I am forever grateful. Your spirit and your legacy will live on in all of us. Climb on John, and I will see you again someday.

-Graham Montgomery

JP was an amazing professor, mentor, and friend. He taught me that for anything I do in life, to do it to the fullest. We went on several biking and climbing outings together and despite JPs goofy sature, that dude could kick your butt. "Old man strength" as he would call it. JP didn't just teach his students, he truly and deeply cared for them. He mentored and supported me for years while I was dealing with some personal battles. I am going to miss JP and will never forget what he did for me and everyone else. No matter where I go in life JP helped me get there and will always be there supporting all of us. JP will never be replaced and there will never be another person like him.

Climb on, JP

-Asher Holloman


Please send our Deepest Sympathies to all faculty, staff and students on the loss of Dr. John Peterson. Our son, Nathaniel Ley was a close friend, student and partner in many of JP’s outdoor adventures and brass concerts. Mentor’s such as Dr. Peterson and Dr. Wacker will always be remembered in our family. Our condolences to Dr. Peterson’s family.
Kindest regards from the Ley family in Fort Collins, Colorado.

-Tom and Susi Ley


Growing up in Oregon, my dad's brother Uncle John was an enigmatic relative who lived far away on the East Coast. My two memories of him from that age were that he could turn his feet all the way around so his toes faced backwards and that one time at a family reunion he allowed his son Eric to ride around on the hood of the car (so cool). In elementary school I would read trip reports on his family website and dream of what it would be like to have such an adventurous life.

One weekend when I was a student at CU-Boulder John and his son Jay came by my house and picked me up for a rock climbing trip. I had maybe climbed once before near his house at Hartman Rocks, but that was it. John thought going up one of the flatirons would be a good first climb for me. I was terrified of the exposure, but the only way to get off the rock was to keep going up! I never totally stopped being terrified during years of subsequent rock climbs, but I kept going because I knew John would always be endlessly encouraging and that it was always worth it once you reached the summit. I can distinctly remember the sensation of sitting alone at a belay station on the side of a rock, feeling in awe of that specific vantage point, and waiting for the rope to tug so I could start climbing.

My first road trip with John was in May 2010 when I was invited to join him and Eric in the "fun mobile"' for a trip to the East Coast. The whole trip had been planned so John could arrive in Cleveland at the end of it to hear Bruckner's 8th - a piece he told me he had waited his whole life to see. That trip was the first time I got a sense of John's enormous network of friends. We stayed with those friends in several cities, my favorite accommodations being Paul Hudak's master house at Yale. I was introduced to every friend as his "crazy niece who thinks she wants to be a math teacher". Halfway through the trip I asked John to please stop calling me crazy and belittling my chosen career path. At that point in my relationship with John I didn't realize that to be teased and called names meant that he really cared about you. On that trip I also started to get a sense of how John always had his adventures completely planned out in his head, but didn't always share those details with fellow travelers - preferring to leave things as a surprise or to make potentially epic outings sound like they'd be very mellow. The greatest surprise on that trip was visiting the quirky Gillette Castle. On our trips John would always find some museum, kitschy tourist trap, or historical landmark he knew I would like. And he'd always wait to eat his McDonald's or Wendy's until we found one located near an acceptable healthy alternative for myself.

I was lucky to see a lot of John since he came to Denver often to visit his father Robert Peterson. John had a talent for finding a means for everyone to join in on his adventures, including his ninety-something-year-old father. Even after Grandpa started using a walker John would seek out walker-friendly trails around Denver and ensure that his father, who so loved the mountains, would get to experience them as late into life as possible. The three of us also enjoyed frequent trips to the symphony and opera. I am probably one of many people who can attribute their love of classical music to John's passion for it. I have fond memories of always sitting in the ring at the DCPA and watching John furiously drum on the outside of the ring in order to make as much noise as possible when the trombones stood up for applause at the end of a concert.

My Funcle John was a monumental presence in my life and shaped me in countless ways. I will carry his indomitable spirit with me for the rest of my life (although I won't necessarily miss being called Math Teacher Lady).

-Katherine Peterson