Let me share with you something you aren’t going to hear from most septic companies: I’ve actually been buried in raw sewage since I was 12 years old. Sounds attractive, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my siblings and I thought our parents had gone and lost their minds. Instead of enrolling us for little league like typical kids, we were digging trenches for our family’s new septic system under the blistering Washington sun. Who knew those wounds would transform into our blueprint.

This is the ugly truth the majority of companies won’t admit: Septic work isn’t just about equipment. It’s about grasping what goes on underground after the backhoe leaves. The majority of folks enter this business through maintenance vans. We? We launched with shovels in our hands and mud up to our knees.

I’ll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, threw me a level and barked, “Boy, if you cannot lay pipe straight, you’re gonna drown a person’s lawn in sewage by Tuesday.” He sure wasn’t wrong. We spent three days that July battling with a difficult clay bed near Redmond—shoveling, measuring, swearing, repeat. But here’s the kicker: Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could identify a deteriorating drain field from 50 yards.

This is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While others were occupied with buying flashy trucks, we were learning why systems truly fail. Like that disaster project in ’03 where we observed a “expert” crew install a tank with no regard for homepage soil percolation. Three months later? Backyard looked like a wetland. We promised then: No shortcuts. Ever.

Skip ahead to 2009. My brother Art (you’ll see his name all over our permits) nearly bankrupted us insisting on verifying three times every perc test. “Think about the swamp house,” he’d growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the recession hit? Our systems kept functioning while others collapsed. Overnight, “Nikolin boys” became a thing mentioned between contractors.

Here’s where we’re different: We construct systems like we’re going to have to service them ourselves. Because here’s the thing? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville phoned freaking out about a holiday emergency. Art rushed out in his turkey-stained shirt. As it happened her “no-service” system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We didn’t just fix it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You think that is standard? Think again. Most companies push you on a $200/month maintenance plan. We’d rather you understand your system. Like that time we sketched drainage diagrams on Dave Miller’s kitchen table in Everett while his kids added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave’s willow tree roots attacked his leach field last spring, he spotted the soggy grass before it developed into a disaster.

Our secret sauce? It is not secret at all. It’s in the blisters. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew groans at a DIYer’s “stone-less drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—subscribe for laughs and real tips). You’ll see it in the YouTube video where we compressed a 72-hour install in pouring Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But let me share the actual magic: We’ve turned all mistake into your benefit. That mossy disaster in Bothell? Showed us to add root barriers by default. The “mysterious backup” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on every job. Even our tanks are unique—we spec heavier concrete after observing how Pacific Northwest winters crack cheaper models.

Please don’t just take my statement for it. Ask the former Boeing engineer who challenged us to manage his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We created him a pressurized system that’s outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose contractor installed an too-small tank—we reconfigured their complete layout during a snowstorm without busting their budget.

This ain’t business fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, confusing soil reports, and stubborn pride in doing it right. We have cried over caved-in trenches in January storms. Celebrated when our sand-filter system saved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even interred our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it broke during an epic granite battle.

So if you are scrolling through septic companies thinking who won’t disappear after the check clears? Remember the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: “A solid system hides. A excellent system works while hiding.” We didn’t just build this business—we developed it from the ground up, one honest hole at a time.

Your turn. Tell me what your system hiding?