Parker is one of the fast-growing suburbs on the south-east side of Denver, a town of many thousands of people that used to be little more than a stagecoach stop. Nothing here is a pass; the land is gently rolling and the nearest high peaks are thirty miles west, a blue-grey line of the Front Range along the horizon.
For a rider, Parker is a launch pad. You get fuel, breakfast and a few kilometres of warm-up on suburban roads before you point yourself toward the mountains. Parker Road, E-470 and the interstates all converge here, which makes it easy to head north to Rocky Mountain National Park or west to the passes. Traffic is the one real drawback: Denver's southern suburbs jam hard at rush hour, and weekend ski traffic adds to it in winter. Leave before seven and you will be through the worst.
The surrounding country has a quiet appeal. Open space trails and parks thread through the pines, and Cherry Creek State Park lies north with a reservoir, a prairie dog town and some good birding. Dawn light on the plains here is warm and golden, and in autumn the oaks turn a dull copper. Hail is a regular threat in summer, big enough to dent cars, and storms can blow up within an hour, so keep an eye on the western sky.
If you are ending a day here, you will roll in from the west on a long, slow descent from the mountains, tired and sun-burnt, with city lights ahead. There is no shortage of places to eat, from Tex-Mex to pizza to breakfast joints with big portions. Pick a hotel near the highway if you want an early start. The altitude, around 1,800 metres, takes a day to get used to for visitors from sea level, so drink plenty of water.