I need to tell you something you will not hear from nearly all septic companies: I’ve actually been elbow-deep in raw sewage since I was twelve years old. Looks attractive, right? Back in the summer of ’98, my brothers and I thought our folks had completely lost their minds. Instead of enrolling us for little league like typical kids, we were carving out trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. We had no idea those calluses would become our blueprint.

Let me share the ugly truth nearly all companies refuse to admit: Septic work is not just about equipment. It’s about knowing what occurs underground after the machinery leaves. Most folks get into this business through pumping trucks. We? We launched with tools in our hands and mud up to our knees.

I’ll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, tossed me a level and said, “Boy, if you are unable to 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 comes the twist: Gus kept bringing us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could identify a dying drain field from 50 yards.

That is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While others were focused on buying expensive trucks, we were discovering why systems actually fail. Like that horror project in ’03 where we witnessed a “expert” crew install a tank with absolutely no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Yard looked like a wetland. We vowed then: No half-measures. Not once.

Skip ahead to 2009. My brother Art (you will see his name all over our permits) almost bankrupted us requiring on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Don’t forget the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. All at once, “Nikolin boys” turned into a thing mentioned between contractors.

Let me explain where we’re different: We construct systems like we’re going to have to repair them ourselves. Because guess what? We typically do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville rang panicking about a holiday overflow. Art rushed out in his dinner-soiled shirt. Apparently her “self-maintaining” system installed in 2015 had a filter nobody told her about. We never just repair it—we showed her grandson how to clean it.

You believe this is standard? Wrong. Most companies prefer you on a $200/month maintenance plan. We’d 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 wet grass before it became a disaster.

Our magic formula? It is not secret at all. You’ll find it in the blisters. In the way Art still takes the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew cringes at a DIYer’s “no-rock drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for homepage laughs and real tips). It is in the YouTube video where we condensed a 72-hour install in relentless Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But let me share the true magic: We turned all mistake into your gain. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Taught us to add root barriers by default. The “ghost flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on each job. Even our tanks are special—we spec heavier concrete after seeing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Don’t just take my statement for it. Ask the former Boeing engineer who challenged us to handle his sloping lot in Duvall. “No way,” said three companies. We constructed him a pressurized system which has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose contractor installed an inadequate tank—we rebuilt their complete layout during a winter storm without busting their budget.

This is not corporate fluff. These are 25 years of frostbitten fingers, confusing soil reports, and relentless pride in doing it correctly. We have cried over caved-in trenches in January downpours. Celebrated when our sand-filter system saved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even laid to rest our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it shattered during an epic granite battle.

So if you find yourself scrolling through septic companies thinking who won’t evaporate after the check clears? Think about the boys who still remember their first lesson from Gus: “A good system hides. A great system works while hiding.” We never just establish this business—we grew it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. Tell me what your system hiding?