Grandma Verna's Camper, Part 1: A Cutting Board That Almost Fit
Stacie HumpherysWhen you inherit something that belonged to someone you loved, small things start to feel like messages.

The 1964 Ideal "canned ham" camper. The paint has long since been worn away by the sun, wind, rain, and snow. It has its original interior. Grandma Verna and Grandpa Joel took good care of it.
I inherited my grandparents' 1964 Ideal "canned ham" camper -- the rounded shape that was everywhere on American highways in the early 1960s. Grandma Verna and Grandpa Joel took very good care of it. Grandpa lived in it when he worked out of town as a heavy equipment operator. Grandma kept it clean and in order. I camped in it as a child, all over Montana. Now I get to be the one to steward these old memories and create new ones.

Grandma Verna is sitting in the doorway of the 1964 Ideal at left, surrounded by family. This camper was a second home for all of us on countless camping adventures.
My husband and I are using it as a base camp while we renovate our mountain cabin. In the meantime, I am also making small improvements -- not a gut renovation, not a full remodel, but the kind of careful, incremental work that honors what is already there while making it more functional for how we actually live.

The 1965 Pontiac Bonneville and the 1964 Ideal, at my grandparents' property in Montana in the early 1970s. I get to own both the car and the camper now... I am so honored to be the keeper of some wonderful memories.
This is the first post in that series. It is about a cutting board.
In This Post
A Kitchen That Fits in a Hallway
Vintage camper kitchens were designed for simplicity. The kitchen in this 1964 Ideal has a three-burner propane stove with an oven -- original to the camper and in nearly new-looking condition -- a single sink, and a counter roughly the size of a large cutting board.
The sink and countertop are also original to 1964 and in good condition. Grandma Verna's doing. The stainless sink sits in a rounded frame. It is not a standard size. It was designed for a specific moment in American camping history, which I find completely reasonable.
But we needed more workspace. Especially since the plan is for this camper to eventually serve as a guest space for visitors to our home -- a small, considered place to sleep that functions like a very tiny boutique hotel. Guests need a functional kitchen. So does anyone trying to make dinner after a long day working on a cabin.

The original sink. The wire rack is repurposed from my home kitchen. It fit the basin almost perfectly, which I am taking as a sign.
The Solution Arrived Before I Knew the Problem
I had an acacia cutting board that came with my home kitchen sink and that I had never used. It lived in a cabinet for years, waiting.
On a day when I was measuring and thinking about the camper counter situation, I set it over the sink opening. It was close. The shape was roughly right but the edges needed trimming and the corners needed to be rounded to match the stainless frame. The board also had no thumb hole, which would have made it nearly impossible to lift out once it settled snugly into position.
Close is close enough to start.
The wire rack from my home kitchen had already found its way into the sink basin. It fit the interior dimensions as if measured. Between the rack below and the cutting board above, the kitchen was suddenly doing double duty: dishes in the rack when I need sink space, cutting board on top when I need counter.
Grandpa Joel would have appreciated the efficiency and simplicity. He built things to work.

Acacia cutting board custom fitted to the 1964 stainless sink frame. The fit is snug. The grain is warm. It looks like it was made for this camper.
How I Made It: The Cardboard Template Method
The metal sink frame is slightly irregular: original 1960s fabrication with small variations in the curves. Measuring the length and width of the sink and giving each corner of the cutting board the same radius wouldn't work here.
A cardboard template solves that problem, and cutting the template in half makes it possible to trace the sink shape from underneath, one side at a time, ensuring a perfect snug fit.
What you need:
- Cardboard (I used an Amazon box)
- Masking tape
- Pencil and Sharpie marker
- Exacto knife
- Circular saw (for straight cuts)
- Jigsaw (for the radii at corners)
- Orbital sander or sandpaper
- Drill with 1.5" hole saw bit
- Food-safe cutting board oil
Step 1: Make the template
Cut a piece of cardboard roughly 1 inch larger than the sink opening on all sides. Then cut it in half down the center -- you will have a left half and a right half.
This is the key to the method. Working with each half separately lets you slide the cardboard behind the sink frame and trace from underneath with one hand, something you cannot do with a full piece.
Before you trace anything, label both halves. I marked WALL for the edge that sits against the wall, L and R for orientation, and THIS SIDE UP so I would know which face was which when I transferred to the board.
To trace, start with the right half. Slide it into position, tape it down securely, and trace the right side of the sink frame from underneath with a pencil. Then place the left half alongside it, tape the two halves together at the center seam, and tape the whole assembly down securely. Once taped down, carefully lift the right half up -- it will hinge at the seam -- and trace that side again with the full template now stable. This two-pass approach gives you a cleaner, more accurate line. Repeat for the left side.
Go slowly at the corners wherever you trace. That is where irregularity shows up and where a rushed line will cost you a snug fit.

Cardboard template taped in place. The labels are not overthinking it -- they matter when you flip the template. I made some marks here to help align the halves.

Tracing the inside edge of the stainless frame on the right half. Slow at the corners.

Tracing the inside edge of the left side. When finished, tape the two sides back together and remove.
Step 2: Cut out the template and transfer to the cutting board
Using an exacto knife, carefully cut the template along the traced lines. Place the template inside the sink frame to carefully check the fit. It's ok if it's a bit snug.

Template flipped face-down on the cutting board. THIS SIDE UP now faces the board. You can see the entire outline of the sink frame in pencil.
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The completed, trimmed template, both halves taped back together. Here's the last test fit before tracing this template on the cutting board blank.
Step 3: Cut along the template lines
I used a circular saw for the straight cuts, jigsaw for the radii at the corners. The cutting board was too thick and too hard for the jigsaw to do the straight cuts. Cut just outside your line. You can always remove more material. You cannot put it back.
Step 4: Cut the thumb hole
With a drill and a 1.5" hole saw, cut the hole. I chose to position it centered at the back -- this keeps it out of the primary work surface and out of the way. The hole is sized to hook a thumb into so you can lift the board cleanly out of the snug fit in the frame. Important: be sure to do this before you snug the fit all the way (it will be very hard to remove without this hole!)
Step 5: Sand and round the edges
With an orbital sander, work the edges gradually and test the fit in the frame frequently. The goal is a snug fit: tight enough that the board does not shift or rattle when in use, loose enough that you can lift it out by the thumb hole.
Once the fit is right, use the sander to round over all the top edges of the board. This gives it a finished feel and makes it look intentional rather than rough-cut. A router with a round-over bit works too -- I was too lazy to set mine up, and the sander did the job.

Step 6: Oil the board
Apply food-safe cutting board oil per the product instructions. Let it cure completely before putting the board back in place. You can use cutting board oil, or just food-safe mineral oil. Do not use olive oil or cooking oil; it will turn rancid.
The Result
The acacia cutting board sits nearly flush in the stainless sink frame. The fit is snug. The grain is warm against the original formica countertop. The whole setup looks less like a modification and more like a detail the original designers somehow forgot to include.
The wire rack stays in the sink basin. The cutting board goes on top when I need counter space and comes off when I need the sink. In a kitchen this size, every surface has to do more than one thing.

Overhead view showing the full fit -- thumb hole in position, stainless frame, acacia grain.
On Things That Fit
I keep noticing this pattern while working on the camper.
The wire rack from my home kitchen: fit the sink basin almost exactly. The acacia cutting board from my home kitchen sink: fit the frame with only light trimming needed.

Some of this is coincidence. Some of it is that vintage camper proportions were standardized around the same household objects that are still in use today. But working in a space that Grandpa Joel lived in, using objects that find their way home as if they belong there -- I choose to see it as Grandma Verna and Grandpa Joel smiling at the fact that their camper is being used again.
They would love it. I know that without question.
Grandma Verna and Grandpa Joel in the early 1950s.
Grandma Verna and Grandpa Joel as I remember them.
This Is Part 1
This post is the first in a series about restoring and improving this 1964 Ideal camper -- small projects, careful work, and the ongoing surprise of things that fit.
Coming up in the series:
- New cushion covers made from Pine + Feather original fabric designs
- More small improvements as the camper becomes both our temporary home and a future guest space
If you are working on a vintage camper or restoring something that belonged to someone you loved, I would enjoy hearing about it. Leave a comment below or reach out here.