It’s very sweet: every morning my wife asks, “Nice ride?” And I have to smile, because every time, “Yes,” I think, “Hell, yes. That was a sweet ride”.

Every day it’s the same: I enjoy a mind, body and soul-healing outing on my bike – it’s not only a pleasure, it’s my duty.

Since having a baby last October, familial roles have been clearly defined. Our daughter spends about a quarter of her life being breastfed, which clinches my wife’s role as her main carer. More than a carer, she’s a lifegiver, singlehandedly and unstintingly sustaining our daughter.

What miracles babies and their mothers are. Men too, even – what a miracle life is. It really makes you wonder at the dangerous disregard we display towards each other as adults on the road. Too many drivers take an Orwellian Animal Farm attitude to “sharing” the highway: a case of “All road users are equal, but some road users are more equal than other road users”?

My main duty is bathtime, with occasional nappy changes and, as often as not, the morning wash and dressing routine. Compared with dads who leave home to work all day, I see a lot of my daughter.

My daily commute is eight seconds up the stairs to my office. I’m lucky to spend so much time with my family, though I do have dark, secret yearnings for a decent five-mile daily commute by bike along car-free towpaths or bridleways.

It would be easy to forget the dog if she wasn’t such a hyperactive jack-in-the-box. Riley’s enthusiasm is endearing. She needs at least one good three or four-mile walk every day, otherwise endearing enthusiasm becomes annoying over-exuberance. Here’s where everything falls together rather nicely.

Another of my duties is taking Riley for walks. They aren’t really walks: she runs, I cycle. What started off as simple loops of South Park has morphed into an altogether more extensive and entertaining tour.

Riley’s very good at trotting alongside the bike and has only once caused me to fall off: she saw a cat and bolted before I could drop her lead. On the road, she has to be on a lead, so the name of our game is to travel as far as possible without using roads. This is not only pleasanter (and safer), it also means the dog can roam off the lead.

A wonderful thing about Oxford is how far you can get around town without using a road. From the Divinity Road area you can bomb down South Park, ride across Headington Hill Park to Marston Road, then down Ferry Road to cross the brilliant flood-meadow cycle track to the Oxford University science area. Or head north up Purcell Road and skirt the playing fields all the way to Marston, and on to the Marston Ferry cycle-superhighway to North Oxford.

Routes west are even better. Cross Warneford Meadow, cruise through Lye Valley (you’ll need a mountain bike for some sections) and take a sharp left by Southfield Golf Course, up to the Slade cycle path. Cross the ring road by Homebase to get into Shotover. Your dog would need to be pretty fit to do this at 15mph and get home in one piece. The first time Riley did it I had to carry her the last mile home: not easy while pushing a bike!

Column inches prevent me from detailing the route from Barracks Lane and Cowley Marsh via Florence Park to the Thames, so you’ll have to scope this out yourself. But it is another miracle, surely, that I can cycle off-road all the way from my house to Abingdon. That’s eight miles and the only roads I encounter are brief crossings over Cowley and Iffley roads.

Wherever you are, explore the roadless routes around where you live and see how far you can get. You might be as lucky as me.