San Diego’s sci-fi convention features the film and print world’s most fanatic followers. Herds of costumed characters and caped crusaders spilled out of the convention center and into the town’s Gaslamp Quarter, parading, primping, pimping, growling, posing and becoming the hero or mad monster they adore most. Sci-fi premiers were everywhere, but as I rode the 2011 Road Glide down likely crime-ridden boulevards and darkened alleys, ready to rescue damsels in short dresses, I knew Captain America had nothing on me.

Reality is kind of tough to deal with these days, so an escape into a week or so of adrenalin wired make-believe feels just like what the witch doctor ordered. Having a hero or two or even an angry super villain with serious childhood issues on our side doesn’t hurt. The Road Glide cruised about town with understated menace. For a few summery days in this lovely seaside city, I felt like the King of the Zombies.

Rolling amid the trikes built to look like starships, cars hung with futuristic bodywork, and the walking comic book characters dressed to kill, the Harley took its rightful role as a magic carpet, albeit bound to an earthly street, a minor inconvenience to a leathered crusader.

The 96 cubic-inch, fuel-injected Twin Cam moves a claimed 93 ft. lbs of torque (at 3500 rpm) to the rear wheel via a six-speed transmission, which is nicely geared to handle city and highway duties. Although I like the wind and bugs and other such road splatter smashing me in the mouth at 75 per, other riders may not share this acquired taste. One remedy would be an electronically adjustable windshield to replace the sliver of shield presently topping off the Road Glide’s broad but largely cosmetic fairing.

The Road Glide Custom offers good ergonomics and a comfortable ride, as expected from a touring machine. The slick, sloping seat, however, left my passenger hanging on for dear life, feeling like she could slide off and away at any moment. This left me conflicted. I happened to like my passenger, which probably had nothing to do with the cute way she safely wrapped her arms and legs around me. I really didn’t want her cast to the wind, but I did like the look of that low-slung seat.

This bike’s six-gallon tank and 45 mpg in combined city and highway riding make it an inviting machine to take anywhere. The Sedona Orange color ensures it gets noticed everywhere. Presumably named after Sedona, Arizona, noted for its stunning red rock vistas and New Age weirdness, the Road Glide looks a lot like fire engine red. But no matter, I was off to the races.

Del Mar Racetrack, set in a seaside village about 20 miles north of San Diego and the Comic Con madness, is a bucolic escape. It was built by old school Hollywood elite, a partnership that included Bing Crosby, Pat O’Brien, Jimmy Durante, and Oliver Hardy. Reportedly, Crosby personally greeted fans at the gate when the track opened in 1937. Opening Day has been a Del Mar tradition ever since.

It appears all Southern California celebrates the third Wednesday of July. In the spirit of the Kentucky Derby but so much sexier, waves of foppish men and fashionably hot women come by bus, limo, motorcycle, sedan and on shanks mare, dressed in their most alluring finery, topped off with floppy hats of beguiling style. What better place to ride a classically designed motorcycle than a classic racetrack, and on its best day?

There seems a natural kinship, even a kind of cross species attraction between iron horses and hay horses. So much so my elegantly chapeau’d passenger and I were invited to the Matthew Chew Racing Stable at Del Mar. Both thoroughbreds shared a mutual affection, which had absolutely nothing to do with the sweet carrots and apples we were sharing.

The Road Glide is an empowering ride, the kind of bike that can turn the average, mild-mannered motorcyclist into a street hero. The 2011 Road Glide Custom runs about $19,000 dressed in black; add $480 for color. The Power Pak option (103 cubic-inch engine, security system, ABS) costs $2,000; the Security Package (security system, ABS) adds $1,200.