Let me share with you something you will not hear from most septic companies: I’ve been waist-deep in raw sewage since I was twelve years old. Sounds appealing, web page right? Back in the summer of ’98, my family and I thought our parents had completely lost their minds. Instead of enrolling us for little league like regular kids, we were carving out trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. Who knew those wounds would transform into our blueprint.

Here’s the ugly truth nearly all companies refuse to admit: Septic work is not just about equipment. It’s really about understanding what happens underground after the equipment leaves. Most folks enter this business through pumping trucks. We? We started with shovels in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I’ll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, tossed me a level and declared, “Boy, if you cannot lay pipe straight, you’re gonna drown somebody’s lawn in sewage by Tuesday.” He was not wrong. We dedicated three days that July battling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—excavating, measuring, groaning, repeat. But here’s the kicker: Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could recognize a dying drain field from 50 yards.

That’s the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While others were focused on buying expensive trucks, we were understanding why systems truly fail. Like that nightmare project in ’03 where we observed a “professional” crew install a tank with zero regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Backyard looked like a wetland. We swore then: No half-measures. Ever.

Jump to 2009. My brother Art (you will see his name all over our permits) almost bankrupted us demanding on verifying three times every perc test. “Remember the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the crash hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. All at once, “Nikolin boys” became a thing shared between contractors.

Let me explain where we’re different: We construct systems like we’ll have to service them ourselves. Because here’s the thing? We typically do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville rang panicking about a holiday backup. Art rushed out in his dinner-soiled shirt. Turned out her “maintenance-free” system installed in 2015 had a filter nobody told her about. We didn’t just solve it—we showed her grandson how to clean it.

You think that is standard? Think again. Nearly all companies push you on a $200/month maintenance plan. We would rather you know your system. Like that time we sketched drainage diagrams on Dave Miller’s kitchen table in Everett while his children added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave’s willow tree roots penetrated his leach field last spring, he noticed the waterlogged grass before it turned into a disaster.

Our special ingredient? It ain’t not secret at all. It is in the blisters. In the way Art still takes the phone at (425) 553-3422 personally. In the Instagram reel where my nephew groans at a DIYer’s “stone-less drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for laughs and real tips). You’ll see it in the YouTube video where we condensed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But let me share the real magic: We’ve turned every mistake into your benefit. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers automatically. The “phantom flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on every job. Even our tanks are unique—we spec thicker concrete after observing how Pacific Northwest winters destroy cheaper models.

Don’t just take my word for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who tested us to handle his sloping lot in Duvall. “Impossible,” said three companies. We constructed him a pressurized system that has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an too-small tank—we rebuilt their complete layout during a blizzard without breaking their budget.

This ain’t marketing fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, misread soil reports, and fierce pride in doing it right. We cried over caved-in trenches in January downpours. High-fived when our sand-filter system preserved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even interred our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it shattered during an epic granite battle.

So if you are scrolling through septic companies questioning who won’t disappear after the check clears? Think about the boys who still recall their first lesson from Gus: “A solid system hides. A great system works while hiding.” We never just establish this business—we cultivated it from the ground up, one genuine hole at a time.

Your turn. Tell me what your system hiding?