Allow me to explain to you something you will not hear from the majority of septic companies: I’ve actually been elbow-deep in raw sewage since I was 12 years old. Looks attractive, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my family and I thought our folks had completely lost their minds. Instead of registering for little league like normal kids, we were excavating trenches for web site our family’s new septic system under the blistering Washington sun. Who knew those blisters would turn into our blueprint.

Here’s the harsh truth nearly all companies will not admit: Septic work isn’t just about pipes and pumps. It’s about understanding what occurs underground after the machinery leaves. The majority of folks enter this business through maintenance vans. We? We started with shovels in our hands and clay up to our knees.

I’m never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, handed me a level and declared, “Young man, if you cannot lay pipe straight, you’ll drown a person’s lawn in waste by Tuesday.” He wasn’t wrong. We spent three days that July wrestling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—digging, measuring, cursing, repeat. But this is the twist: Gus kept inviting 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 competitors were focused on buying flashy trucks, we were understanding why systems really fail. Like that nightmare project in ’03 where we observed a “certified” crew install a tank with no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Property looked like a wetland. We swore then: No compromises. Not once.

Fast forward to 2009. My brother Art (you’re going to see his name all over our permits) nearly bankrupted us demanding on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Don’t forget the swamp house,” he’d growl. We ate cheap food for six months. But when the crash hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” turned into a thing shared between contractors.

Let me explain where we’re different: We build systems like we will have to fix them ourselves. Because you know what? We often do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called freaking out about a holiday backup. Art went out in his gravy-covered shirt. As it happened her “self-maintaining” system installed in 2015 had a filter nobody told her about. We never just fix it—we taught her grandson how to clean it.

You assume that’s standard? Not a chance. Most companies push you on a $200/month service plan. We rather you know your system. Like that time we sketched drainage diagrams on Dave Miller’s kitchen table in Everett while his toddlers added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave’s willow tree roots penetrated his leach field last spring, he caught the wet grass before it turned into a disaster.

Our special ingredient? It ain’t not secret at all. You’ll find it in the calluses. In the way Art still takes the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew facepalms at a DIYer’s “no-rock drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—check us out for laughs and legit tips). You’ll see it in the YouTube video where we compressed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But here’s the real magic: We have turned every mistake into your gain. That mossy disaster in Bothell? Showed us to add root barriers standard. The “mysterious backup” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on each job. Even our tanks are unique—we spec heavier concrete after observing how Pacific Northwest winters crack cheaper models.

Don’t just take my word for it. Ask the former Boeing engineer who dared us to tackle 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 contractor installed an undersized tank—we rebuilt their complete layout during a snowstorm without exceeding their budget.

This ain’t marketing fluff. It’s 25 years of numb fingers, misunderstood soil reports, and stubborn pride in doing it right. We’ve cried over caved-in trenches in January rains. High-fived when our sand-filter system preserved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even laid to rest our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it snapped during an epic granite battle.

So if you’re scrolling through septic companies thinking who will not evaporate after the check clears? Consider the boys who still recall their first lesson from Gus: “A solid system hides. A great system works while hiding.” We never just create this business—we cultivated it from the ground up, one honest hole at a time.

Your turn. Tell me what your system hiding?