Where There's A Wheel , There's A Way

Jersey Couple Shoots For Truck Series Glory

By Josh Stewart
 

It’s the kind of story a true car fetishist should hear only after two shots of rotgut and a hug from Mom.

Back in 1983, high schooler Paul Bamburak was just moments away from Americana ecstasy. His father’s 1957 Chevy Bel Air, black on black, was parked on the road with a big bow on it. All that was left was to finish dinner.

“We hear this big bang,” Bamburak remembers. “So I go running out to my window to look, and the trunk’s sitting in the backseat, parked in the street, still sitting there with that bow on it.”

What was supposed to be Bamburak’s first car was so crumpled its only use would’ve been fresh meat at a monster truck rally.

But to his credit, the one thing that crash-up couldn’t dent was Bamburak’s love of the wheel.

You learn as much upon entering Bamburak’s neighborhood in Southampton, N.J., some 15 miles from the Philadelphia bridges. At first glance, the fastest things in this rural-yet-upscale development seem to be the dozen or so deer making their way up the street.

That quickly changes when Bamburak’s race truck is pulled out of the garage, still sporting scars from the previous year’s late model festivities at Caraway Speedway in Asheboro, N.C. This is the latest jones for the professional mechanic, who besides several restorations has dabbled in street stock, modified and drag racing.

But he thinks he’s finally found his true love...thanks to finally finding his true love.

The next motor Bamburak is forced to replace may be in wife Maria’s laptop. She’s been sending out quite a bit of e-mail, seeking sponsorship for his husband’s next and most ambitious stop: NASCAR’s Camping World Truck Series.

Really, all of this is her fault. In 2006, the year after they were married, Maria surprised Paul with a trip to the StockCar Racing Experience at Pocono Raceway in Pennsylvania. For most, it’s a one-time thrill. But to Paul, who hadn’t seen a cockpit in a few years, it was a different animal.

“I said to Maria, ’You’ve opened up a can of worms that can’t be closed again.’”

Maria wasn’t fazed. The pair has had some motor matchups on certain Jersey roads they would only disclose when assured that the statute of limitations has expired. She figures their romance is a lasting one .

For Paul, though, it ended up being a much more painful proposition. More than 15 years after a wayward driver sent his adolescent dreams to the scrapyard, he paid cash for a ’58 Chevy Delray that was threatening to get covered in shrubbery when the former owner lost his storage space. Not exactly his dad’s car, but, Bamburak stresses, it was black on black. He would never let that car get away.

Until...

“I’ll give you my baby, I want the truck,” is the way Bamburak describes the words he used to get his hands on a ride that had seen competition in the big time. It was a necessary sacrifice, but he doesn’t mince words when adding, “It was heartbreaking.”

Glance on either side of the TV set in the couple’s “NASCAR Room,” and some keepsakes make it clear that what Bamburak gave up wasn’t for naught. To the right, in a clear cube, is some balled-up, splintered rubber that helps characterize the fun at Caraway, which included several top-10 finishes despite racing a truck 700-800 pounds heavier than those specifically built for late model action. To the left, under a picture frame, is a story from a local North Carolina newspaper noting his recent appearance on Live From Poppa’s: The Race Review. The show is a proverbial Wayne’s World with lug nuts, a community cable program hosted at a hot dog restaurant in NASCAR team hotbed Mooresville.