The following post is continued from Part I, published in April of 2014 and included here as its own page.

With the construction of my truck-home well under way and completely livable, I busied myself adding the goodies. My little tiny home on four wheels was turning into a mini-mansion.

The world’s tiniest home.

Before continuing with the interior woodwork, I finished the job of removing the two windows between the cab (sealed into the body) and bed (screwed into the camper shell) of the truck. The window on the body of the truck required some basic tools and a lot of elbow grease, tearing away the molding around the outside and prying out the window. Taking care not to get the gunky adhesive everywhere, this was done under a matter of thirty minutes. The camper shell window took just as long, drilling out the screws in the metal molding that held the folding window in place. The final screws were the toughest, requiring a high-powered drill to bore holes into their centers because they had fused into place. Had they unscrewed normally, this would’ve been achieved in half the time.

That little bit of ugliness out of the way, I got down to the fun stuff.

I started with the driver’s side, creating a lip on the second level to ensure small items wouldn’t slide over the edge en route. Next I added one of my favorite touches–what I call my little Tower of Convenience. This includes a functional, removable paper towel roll, a magnet strip for utensils, space for a two-gallon BPA-free water jug, and mounting of a battery-powered fan.

The indomitable Tower of Convenience™, designed and implemented by yours truly.

The Tower of Convenience has worked wonderfully since installed. The main issue is with the paper towel rack–it rattled until I secured the screwed end with camouflage duct tape. Somehow the regular silver tape didn’t do the trick:) Also, the water jug causes more problems than anything else in the truck-home. Jugs like these aren’t the most durable–I’ve already had to replace the one pictured here because it cracked for no apparent reason. Secondly, keeping the jug in place required a bungee cord, or something like it, which stresses the structural integrity of the Tower. Third, removing the jug to refill it (which happens often with regular use) is awkward, resulting in the cracked lip you see in the photo. Not a big deal, but hardly ideal, either. Finally, a jug so close to the window is exposed to heat. Other items, buried far beneath blankets and out of the sunlight, stay cooler longer.

Word to the wise on all the above.

Below my beloved tower is my other favorite touch, the bookcase. This is the detail that keeps me smiling. Living in your vehicle is far from glamorous, so having unique touches such as this adds a feeling of home one might otherwise lose when downsizing so drastically. I trade titles in and out, keeping my favorites on hand for reference–and borrowing. It’s my own Little Free Library.

Hungry for new reading material? Flag me down as I’m rolling through your hood–I’ve got the good stuff.

In the corner, I keep a space for extras. This is where I store leftover food (which keeps cool for all but the hottest days), my battery-powered torch, and other fun stuff. In the back, I’ve installed a Secret Snack Shelf, which was a lot more secret until I typed that.

Across the way is my most ergonomically impressive addition: A folding table that closes into a pantry cabinet. The hinged door opens into a work/eatspace and closed down thanks to mini-magnets and glued Velcro–meaning it stays closed on all but the worst limestone roads. My food and cooking supply cache inside stays put with this netting, purchased from the fabric store. The table “legs” hold infinite weight on the surface when open. And I keep the portable butane stove tied to the top using bungee cords and rope. For aesthetics, I placed these old Navajo placemats to keep me feeling at home. For manliness, I included this very necessary hatchet-hanger.

What more could a man ask for?

In front of the panty/table is a platform, on top of which is my thin mini-fridge. I had high hopes for this at first, but any home-freer knows refrigeration is the most challenging of living amenities. I have yet to conquer it. At first, I imagined running the electric cooler off of a 200-watt solar panel strapped to the roof of the truck, but my perhaps-paranoid brain couldn’t justify leaving such a luxury item out on the city street for any entrepreneurial thief to pillage in my absence. So that hasn’t happened yet. Instead, I’ve run a power extension from the cab of the truck to the rear, using the car battery to run the fridge on road trips. This has worked to my advantage on many-a vacation, keeping cans of amber lager cool for hours until the clock strikes the liver-punishment hour.

Note the stylish leather boot, which I splurged for, and which conceals the extension cord while covering the portal and sort-of-weatherproof rubber boot outside of it. The benefit of living in California is that it rarely rains, otherwise this would be the truck’s most frustrating feature. Leakage has been a problem for me in the past. My most recent application of silicone seems to be sealing the rubber to the body of the truck and shell wonderfully, but we’ll see how long that lasts. Every time I consider moving to the Pacific Northwest, I’m reminded of this potential headache.

For a splash of earned currency, this leather portal boot adds a nice touch to the aspiring truck-home.

Below the fridge are these convenient cubby-hole compartments, good for storing medicine I refuse to ever use and other potentially embarrassing Items I won’t name here. It was originally designed for hand sanitizer and condoms–I may be a sinner, but I keep clean!–but it’s become a catch-all spot for forgotten items instead.

My no-longer-secret underfridge compartment. That red wire is the cigarette lighter extension cord.

Getting to know me well, aren’t you?

The inside of my truck-home cab wouldn’t be nearly as tidy without the addition of my extended cab storage area. This I’ve organized with a multi-use folding compartment. The storage lid opens and folds for convenience from any angle, exposing the inside for easy grabbing of stuff. I conceal the compartment with a matching bedsheet (gotta stay color-coordinated for the ladies!), which maintains a benign appearance, should anyone peer in from the outside. Under the lid is a clothes rack–with limited but useful hanging space–and a shelf for shoes and my personal haircuttery pack. I keep my clothes, laundry, and gym bag here, too.  Best of all, the compartment is drilled into the truck itself, designed to support this growing boy as he crawls from back to front, and back!

Benefits of an extended cab.

All in all, the truck serves a useful purpose for my day-to-day needs. Supported by a modest storage unit and gym access, I can live pretty comfortably. On the road and in my daily routine.

Has anyone else tried this with their vehicle? Or are you considering building your own truck-home? If so, please comment below!

Read more about the Pros & Cons of living in this custom-built tiny home!

 – TOH