DIY Drummer: repairing and restoring a Beetle Last Pad

The Beetle Last Pad originally came as a doublesided pad with two playing surfaces and long tension bolts holding it all together. It was capable of very high tension and meant for modern marching drummers who wanted a pad with a Kevlar head on one side and a Mylar head on the other. 

Later, Beetle released a singlesided version of the Last Pad, meant for lower tension and a Mylar head. It was sold as a pad meant for old-school rudimental drummers, and if you installed a coated head it was also good for brushes. (I have such pad and to my surprise it has become my favorite brush pad, though I also like to chop rope drum style on it. The foam insert makes it feel very buttery.)

The seller bought a singlesided Last Pad and proceeded to assemble it with a Kevlar head and high tension — *not* what it was designed for. I’d guess he did this to save money, since the doublesided version costs far more. (The singlesided Last Pad currently retails for $180; the doublesided version costs $260. Both are worth the price when you take into account the sustainability and the amount of care and craft involved in their construction.

This singlesided Last Pad became available on eBay a couple months ago, and I watched it with interest.

Originally, the seller wanted $180 plus nearly $90 in shipping.

His description: “Beetle pad I bought not too long ago but don’t want anymore. Has some cracks from running but have changed the head with the cracks there, just don’t tune it too high. It has a Remo White Max Head.”

Sadly, in the process he cranked the tension so high — which is necessary for a Kevlar head — that he cracked the baseplate in the process.

I figured that the damage was rough, but repairable. I made a much lower offer, which was rebuffed. So I watched the listing and waited. So did at least fifteen other people.

I watched and waited for over a month, and the price fell over time. Finally, when the price fell to under a hundred bucks and the shipping became, frankly, more realistic, I felt ready to bite the bullet. I bought the pad and planned on repairing the baseplate with wood glue and clamps, and would see how it turned out. (I also planned to swap in an Emperor head and use lower tension.)

The pad arrived about a week later. The seller had simply tossed it in a box without any packing material. The cardboard box was ripped apart and crudely taped up again. The pad had bounced around inside the box and there was far more damage to baseplate than the listing photos had shown.

I gave the seller a mediocre review and told him to do better. Then I turned my attention to the pad.

I took it apart, and discovered that the previous owner had cranked down the tension so much that two of the bolts snapped when I tried to loosen them. Additionally, ten of the twelve washers were malformed from overtensioning. There were only single, large washers, not the second set of smaller washers that my singlesided Last Pad had come with.

I set aside the head, rim and bolts, and got to work on the baseplate.

Detensioning the hardware made the cracks narrower, so I had to slip a flathead screwdriver into the crack and widen it a little. I poured some wood glue into the crack, pressed it in with my finger and poured some more. Finally, I clamped the crack closed.

I repeated this with the crack in the second and third areas of damage, and set the baseplate aside to dry.

Then, I slipped the big washers into my bench vise and straightened them as best I could. That turned out fine and I felt comfortable reusing them at lower tension.

I chatted with Bradley at Beetle, who confirmed that this was probably a very early release of the singlesided Last Pad because it used only large washers. Subsequent versions have included two sets of washers and this works far better in terms of strength and durability.

I went through my parts bin and came up with replacement bolts and a set of smaller washers (old bicycle axle washers, nice and thick!) to add to the assembly.

Then, I waited for the glue to dry. Because I couldn’t be sure how far down into the cracks the glue could seep, I left the baseplate clamped all day. When I removed the clamps in the evening, the repair held solidly. Before stopping for the night, I drilled some vertical holes through the baseplate, two at each repair area, to receive hardwood dowels for greater stability.

The next day I got the fluted hardwood dowels to glue into the six stabilizer holes I’d drilled. The flutes carved into the dowel allow for glue to set in firmly with the wood and create a better bond and seal. When I ran this by Bradley, he suggested that the glue would do the job all by itself and that perhaps the dowels were overkill; but the bicycle mechanic in me really wanted to make sure the repaired baseplate wouldn’t come apart under stress. 

Valchromat (aka ForesCore), the material that is used in the baseplates and inserts of all Beetle pads that aren't built around solid wood, is made from compressed, finely ground wood fiber and a special glue. This is basically like MDF, but Valchromat uses very little formaldehyde and is much safer than ordinary MDF. Also, it's impregnated with color during the compression process so when you chip or scuff it, you don't lose color the way you would with wood that has simply been painted externally. It's also harder than MDF, and therefore a much better material all around. 

That said, if you're going to sand or drill Valchromat, it's still important to do so in a well-ventilated area and wear eye and mouth protection. Safety first!

In this photo, you can see where I’d had to build up the edges of the baseplate that had broken off. For this, I sanded everything, applied scotch tape around the missing part of the edge to form a “wall,” and poured in the glue to set overnight. When I removed the tape in the morning, a tiny bit of wet glue beneath seeped out, causing a slight collapse of the “wall.” Enough of the glue had dried that I didn’t worry about it. I knew that there would be enough of a repaired edge for my purposes, let the remainder of the glue dry and called it good.

The pad came with a 3/16” tire rubber insert, which would normally be too hard for my tastes. Bradley offered to make me a new insert with gum rubber so I could achieve something much closer to the feel of my 15” marching snare drum. While waiting for that, I decided to assemble the pad with the parts I have and see how I like it.

I let the glued dowels dry all day, and shortly before dinner time I assembled the pad with what I had on hand, including the harder insert and an old Emperor head. While I’m glad to experience the 3/16” recycled tire insert under a tuned head, it’s not really my thing and I will replace it with either a thin gum rubber insert or a 1/4” recycled tire insert, either of which will feel a little nicer for my hands. And I have a new Emperor suede head on order at Revival that should be here next week. 

Gosh, what a cool pad. I’m happy to have a second Last Pad for harder Mylar chopping, and thrilled to have repaired this at home.

(I was tempted for about twenty seconds to send the video to the seller, but my schadenfreude doesn’t run quite that deep. Mom raised me better than that.)

If you want a Last Pad, both versions are available on the Beetle Percussion web site, and are worth every penny.

Happy chopping.

Pad Interestingness: a roundup of recent activity

In the last week or so, I’ve been devoting time to all sorts of pad research, DIT an improvements and a couple of acquisitions. Here's a roundup.

1. Vintage practice pads made using solid wood can be far more resonant — and louder! — than later pads using plywood. I like to make mutes for these older pads I’m scrap foam. This is my latest, using leftover scraps of ensolite camping pad material that I stacked, glued and shaped to fit. Works beautifully.

2. In high school, my section leader acquired a brand new pad that had just come out, called the Trankle Pocket Pad. He had money and his parents got him whatever drum gear he needed or wanted. The pad wasn’t cheap — over $20 in 1979! — but after trying it we all wanted one. I finally got one in college, and took it everywhere with me. But by the mid 1980s the company had folded and suddenly you couldn’t find the pads anymore. I sold that original pad to a classmate and always regretted it.

Last week, I bought another from a guy who’d had it since college. When it arrived, I could see and feel that the gum rubber was in bad shape, so I decided to replace it. It’s not pretty but it does work, and I’m happy with the results.

3. Six months ago, this little pad appeared in an online ad. The seller had offered it with sticks and an old woodblock, all from his uncle’s estate. He wanted $60 cash, in-person for the lot. I asked about buying just the pad but at the time he didn’t want to ship. So I thanked him, and waited. Occasionally, I’d check to see if the listing was still active. Two weeks ago, the pad appeared in a new listing by itself, now for far less money. I reached out to the seller and asked if he’d consider shipping it to me. He agreed. I mailed him a money order, he mailed me the pad and now it’s here. It’s the only pad from Pep Products (a small drum parts manufacturer based in Kankakee, Illinois during the mid-twentieth century) that I’ve seen that wasn’t made of a solid block of rubber.

It’s a calfskin head stretched over some kind of frame — plastic? Wood? I’m not sure — and mounted on a small wood platform with a tilt built in. It’s a small, delicate thing, likely from the late 1940s or early 50s, and I wouldn’t chop seriously on it at this point. But I’m thrilled to have this here for examination and research. If anyone can share more info about the Pep Products company, I’d be grateful.

Happy drumming!

DIY Project: refurbishing and improving a favorite practice pad

In 2023, I purchased a custom pad from Rudimental Control. When I got my pad, I was pleased with the appearance and the performance.

But I was also a little concerned about the potential for the pad eventually bottoming out with use and compression. The inner platform had a lower profile than subsequent versions and over time the metal hoop made contact with the wood outer platform, limiting my ability to achieve good tension.

After I purchased  a newer generation of a pad from the same company, with rounded edges and a taller profile, I knew that I would want to find a way to raise the profile on my first-generation pad. While Rudimental Control made the very kind offer of taking back my first generation pad for modification at no additional charge, I decided that I really wanted to make this a DIY project.

Since I don't own power tools, I knew I’d have to work entirely by hand. The plan as I envisioned it below was to slice the inner base horizontally, and add another layer of wood in between the two halves. I ordered a  13” diameter x 1/2” thick wood round from a guy on Etsy, and hoped it would arrive around the time the sawing was done.

I marked where I thought the line ought to be, a process made easier by following the edge between two layers of the ply. Then, I wrapped the edge of the outer base in several layers of shop towels and clamped that into my bench vise.

And I began to carefully saw through the center of the inner base. I began with a fine-toothed Japanese pull-saw, to take my time, maintain control and avoid damaging the wood too much.

Over time, I was able to switch to a standard (American-style) hand saw so I could make faster progress. It took several days of short sawing sessions, taking time and care and giving my hand a rest before resuming again in several hours or the next day. It took me about five days doing it this way, which made it easier on my hands and gave the Etsy order time to be shipped.

It was slow going, and I was fine with that.

Finally, a couple of days ago, I was able to separate the two halves. As I’d expected, there was some stray pieces of wood that came off on either side from the ply and the glue. I carefully chipped away the biggest pieces and sanded the rest reasonably flat on each side.

The Etsy order arrived early this morning. I sanded the edges slightly round, and roughed up the smooth sides of the new “slice” so the glue would adhere better. I knew that there would be gaps, but I wasn’t worried about those. Any small gaps would be filled in a little by the wood glue under compression, and any larger gaps could be filled in after that with some wood filler and sealed with more glue. I’m not a woodworker and don’t pretend to be; and as long as 90% of the wood was in contact with the first glueing and compression during drying, I wasn’t worried. 

Glueing, Part One: middle slice and bottom of inner base. Instructions said to keep clamped for 30 minutes. I let it sit for two hours while I went to grab some lunch with my sister.

Since I don’t have any fancy woodworking clamps, I applied wood glue, centered it carefully by hand and waited five minutes, then let go and set a wine case and a cinder block on top of it to weight it down. Using the wine case [empty] would spread the weight out over the surface of the base, and the cinder block would center the weight for a firm bond.

After lunch, I removed the cinder block and wine case, checked my work, and repeated the process with the top of the sawn base, glueing it to the “slice” and putting back the wine case and cinder block. I left this overnight.

Next step: applying filler to the biggest gaps between the middle and top sections and letting them dry. Knowing that there would be gaps around the outer edges of the layers, I saved all the sawdust, poured it into the gaps and chased it with Elmers Glue-All. When that stuff hardens, it’s a solid. 

Doing a quarter at a time and allowing gravity and drying to do the rest made a difference. Since Elmer’s has a relatively short drying time of a few hours, it took most of a day for this part of the process.

However, just to be on the safe side, I decided to let this application sit weighted down overnight and into the next morning.

When the Elmer’s had dried completely, I sanded it lightly and applied a clearcoat by hand to protect the edges and seal everything.

Then I was ready to reassemble with a new pinstripe head.

After I installed the new head, I let it sit for another half a day, in case any more glue might seep out. It did, and I carefully wiped it away.

Aaaand done. Pinstripe head didn’t make me happy so I swapped in an Emperor head and it’s *much* nicer now.

Arthritis hands post-lawn mowing, but I don’t care. I’m really happy with how this turned out.

And I’m honored that Rudimental Control included this pad in their custom gallery. It’s still a good-looking pad, I play it nearly every day and I would heartily recommend Rudimental Control pads to any drummer looking for a craft-made, serious practice tool.

And if you buy a Rudimental Control pad now, in 2026, rest assured that it will have rounded edges and a higher profile, so that it will never need to be modified in this way. 

Lesson? If you like a pad but want it to be even better, don’t be afraid to experiment and get your hands dirty. The worst thing that can happen is you might have to replace some parts. And you can do this with any well-built tunable practice pad (and, if you’re careful, some rubber-on-wood pads as well).

Vintage Corner: Restoration, Remo pad 1964

Restoration: Remo pad, 1964.

I purchased two of these old 10” pads, with metal rims, plywood base and fiberboard underlay. They came to me in a pretty filthy state. The original foam had been pummeled enough that the foam in the center was worn away a bit.

Here are before and after photos of one of the pads.

I carefully scrubbed the metal rim and the head with warm, mildly soapy water and a sponge. I also repaired the gap in the metal rim, originally covered with a “Remo” sticker, with some metallic plumbers tape.

The head was old and had a bald spot in the middle where the coating had been worn away by a lot of practice. To reinforce the worn center and help the head last a little longer, I applied a couple of strips of clear packing tape to the underside and smoothed them down.

When I reassembled it, I replaced the original foam with layers of bubble wrap, yoga mat and ensolite sleeping pad. 

The three layers stacked just a bit higher than the metal band that held the foam, meaning that it would compress nicely when the head was replaced and re-tensioned.

(Below: the layers, in order. L-R: bubble wrap, yoga mat, ensolite pad. Lay the bubble wrap with the flat side up so it sits flush against the middle yoga mat layer.)

All of these materials can be found for cheap or free at yard sales, thrift shops and in packages you might receive.

It plays beautifully with concert sticks.

I did the same thing with the other pad, and it’s also much more fun to play on now. I’ll probably keep one of the pads and rehome the other one.

Vintage Corner: Sam Ulano’s King Size Pad

Sam Ulano was a jazz drummer and drum teacher based in New York. He wrote and published many instruction books that are still in use today, and one of his quirkiest claims to fame is the one gig he played for the band PiL (Public Image, Ltd, with John Lydon before he founded the Sex Pistols).

Sam taught numerous drummers over a fifty year period and designed his own practice pads and practice sticks. His sticks were made from sections of metal conduit, and were designed for use on heavy rubber practice pads. You can find a couple of his pad designs in YouTube videos, like this one.

(Photo stills, enlarged, from the video)

Note the construction and size of the pad, with gum rubber set into a panel atop a blue wooden box.

I’d assume the handle is for ease of carrying, and that the box is hollow for resonance (though perhaps a drawer could be opened on one side to store a lesson book). I’ll need to research further to find better photos and information about this particular pad.

In other videos, Sam is shown playing on a big, flat pad. Here’s a photo still of that style of pad, taken from another video (with low production values, but you can still see the pads he and his student are using).

I acquired one of the flat styled pads this week in an online sale. This pad had previously been offered by another seller, at a price I couldn’t afford at the time. Six months later, it showed up for sale again, this time from a seller of random vintage items. I watched the listing for another six months and finally made him an offer that we could both live with. 

The pad is well used and probably dates from the 1960s or 70s. 

The top side is a panel of thick, pure gum rubber, of the kind available between the 1940s and 1960s, inset into a wood frame. It has a great feel even now, but the rubber has disintegrated with use and time. If I play on it, tiny crumbs of dried rubber flake off. I’m researching a way to preserve the rubber and make it safer to play without damage.

The bottom side of the pad has a much harder black panel of rubber that resembles the stuff found on the earliest versions of the HQ Real Feel pads. It has rebound, but is much harder in feel and tone.

The whole thing is supported by a thick wooden frame that measures around 13” x 11”, with playing surfaces measuring 12” x 10” — making for a very big practice pad.

I’m very glad to add this to my collection of vintage pads. I’m hoping to stabilize the gum rubber so I can use the pad regularly. Stay tuned.

UPDATE, May 8 2026: I heard from someone who studied with Sam back in the day and saw photos of my pad online. He informed me that Sam had his students make their own pads based on his design and instructions. So this adds another layer of interestingness to an already really cool, historic pad.

I LOVE that making your own practice pad was par of the instruction for these drum students!

DIY Project: homemade Moeller pad

Readers here will remember my first attempt at making a tilted wood practice pad, during the pandemic. It was a rough job, and the tilt was insane, but I learned a lot from the process. A friend named it the Hero Tilt pad.

Not long after finishing that project, I came across this photo of a pad made and used by Sanford “Gus” Moeller.

It was one of the most beautiful pads I’d ever seen, and I wanted to own it.

I also knew that wasn’t likely to happen. This one was either in the hands of Moeller’s descendants, or a collector, or maybe even a museum.

So if I wanted one, I’d have to make my own. The trouble was that I’m not an experienced woodworker. I own no power tools and I wasn’t prepared to lay out a ton of money on the project. So I made a deal with myself and decided that I’d take my time, do my best, and be willing to live with the results.

Part One: I got the wood slabs from a scrap pile at a construction site near my home. 

The cylindrical pieces came from chair crossbeams dumped by a restaurant when they replaced their broken chairs. Unable to get accurate measurements from a photo, I went “by the eye,” as they say. I drew lines for simple cuts with a hand saw, and after the pieces were cut I sanded them all by hand. I mostly wanted to sand down the sharp edges so they wouldn't snag on anything. Since I was working with scrap wood, hand tools and arthritic hands, I was prepared for my pad to be a bit more rough and ready than Moeller’s. 

Part Two: I roughed up the facing edges and used wood glue to attach the three main pieces together. I used a wood stool and bicycle toe straps as clamps to set everything overnight. When the glue dried, I went back and added a couple of wood screws for stability. Then, I added the small side struts with wood glue and let everything dry overnight.

I had thought of staining my pad like Moeller had, but my very rough scraps and glue spots would only be accentuated by stain or vernish. In the end I decided to just paint the wood. I opted for some Gloss Forest Green left over from when we painted our house three years ago. A couple of coats and it didn’t look half bad.

I wanted a name plate, but there wasn’t enough room to apply one where Moeller had placed his, so I mounted it on the side of the base. I made mine from scrap leather and used an art pen. I preserved it with a coat of clear nail polish and mounted it with tiny copper finishing nails.

Part Three: I applied a nonskid bottom using thin mousepad material. I’ve used this on other practice pads and it works well.

Part Four: Finally, I was ready to add the rubber playing surface on top. I marked off the size I wanted, dipped a sharp carpet knife in oil, and cut to desired size. After wiping the oil off, I scored the top of the wood and the bottom of the rubber, applied super glue gel, bound it up with bike toe straps and let dry outside.

Here’s the finished pad, and the original Moeller pad for comparison. It’s not perfect, but it’s solid and feels great to chop on. Considering my lack of woodworking tools and knowledge, I’m still pleased with how it turned out.