Given dogs' well-known propensity for attacking bicycles, you'd think the last place you'd want to go on two wheels would be a park where dozens of mutts have been let off the leash and are slobbering all down their hairy, tick-infested chins at the prospect of some spokes to stick a paw into and a bare calf to bite.However, at the Hawthorne Canal Reserve in Leichhardt, the arrival of a cyclist doesn't even register, such is the frenzy of bum-sniffing and leg-cocking. And that's just the dogs' owners. This being Sydney's inner west, while the humans are embracing their inner labradoodle, the hounds are sipping pupaccinos from the trailblazing dog cafe, Cafe Bones. It caters for people too, for which I am grateful, as my body seems to have seized up after cycling for several hundred metres and it's unlikely I would be capable of getting on all fours and lapping my coffee from a ceramic bowl bearing the name 'Fido'.The surrounds are pleasant: the park has fig trees and grass and chirruping birds, and a snack by the side of the canal is just the thing to revitalise a weary cyclist. Admittedly, a large flat white and slice of mud cake may not be the Australian Institute of Sport recommended dietary intake halfway through a gruelling tour, but the equine growth hormone focaccias were sold out.There are few public places in these parts where dogs can be let off the leash and the reserve is awash with dachshunds and Dobermans, boxers and bitzers. They're predominantly friendly and their enthusiasm is as contagious as rabies, so I remount my trusty metal steed with a hint of what could almost be described as vigour. Actually, 'trusty' may be stretching it a bit. Not only am I riding a bike that has a wobbly front wheel and tyres that are inflatably challenged, but I'm also sporting a helmet that cost $1 at Rozelle markets and looks like something that not only predates Australian safety standards, but also the convention that both wheels on a bicycle should be of the same size.Nevertheless, I'm off again, following a route laid down in the book Cycling Around Sydney by Bruce Ashley – an inspiring read for any would-be Lance Armstrong but a bit difficult to follow when you're going over bumpy ground. In the spirit of halting climate change and record temperatures around my equatorial areas due to increased insulation, I'm attempting ride five, a "sunny winter's day ride", an "easy" 23 kilometres from Summer Hill station to Cabarita wharf, or vice versa.Even easier is only riding from Iron Cove Bridge to Summer Hill and back again, interspersing the trip with refreshment breaks at cafes, pubs, clubs, service stations, dripping hosepipes and any plants that appear to have moisture that could be squeezed out of their leaves. The route follows the peaceful car-free side of the Bay Run around Iron Cove, runs parallel to the canal and passes through quiet streets in Haberfield, so there's no need for novices to be nervous about traffic unless, like me, they take a wrong turn and end up going the wrong way down the City West Link. It's easy to spend an hour or so exploring the village of Summer Hill, especially if you're feeling a bit sore between the buttocks and are lurching bow-legged like John Wayne after a ride across the Mojave.But just as every uphill has a down, there comes with the expansion of my lungs and the ache in my nether regions a strange feeling, a sense that my body does have a purpose after all, and an emotional lift that might even be described as elation. I suspect this exercise thing may be good for you. I may even try it again one day.