Let me explain to you something you aren’t going to hear from the majority of septic companies: I’ve actually been waist-deep in raw sewage since I was 12 years old. Sounds appealing, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my brothers and I thought our folks had completely lost their minds. Instead of signing up for little league like typical kids, we were digging trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. We had no idea those blisters would transform into our blueprint.

Here’s the ugly truth most companies will not admit: Septic work ain’t just about pipes and pumps. It’s about knowing what goes on underground after the equipment leaves. Nearly all folks get into this business through maintenance vans. We? We began 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 barked, “Kid, if you are unable to lay pipe straight, you’ll drown someone’s lawn in waste by Tuesday.” He was not wrong. We dedicated three days that July fighting with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—shoveling, measuring, groaning, repeat. But this is the kicker: homepage Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could spot a deteriorating drain field from 50 yards.

This is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While competitors were occupied with buying flashy trucks, we were understanding why systems actually fail. Like that horror project in ’03 where we witnessed a “professional” crew install a tank with zero regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Yard looked like a wetland. We vowed then: No compromises. Ever.

Skip ahead to 2009. My brother Art (you’re going to see his name all over our permits) nearly bankrupted us insisting on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Remember the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept working while others collapsed. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” became a thing whispered between contractors.

Let me explain where we stand different: We build systems like we’re going to have to fix them ourselves. Because here’s the thing? We typically do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called freaking out about a holiday overflow. Art drove out in his turkey-stained shirt. As it happened 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 this is standard? Wrong. Nearly all companies want 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 invaded his leach field last spring, he caught the soggy grass before it became a disaster.

Our special ingredient? It’s not secret at all. You’ll find it in the blisters. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew cringes at a DIYer’s “gravel-free 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 pouring Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But here’s the true magic: We’ve turned every mistake into your gain. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Showed us to add root barriers standard. The “phantom flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on all job. Even our tanks are different—we spec stronger concrete after witnessing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Don’t just take my word for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who dared us to tackle his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We built him a pressurized system which has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an inadequate tank—we rebuilt their complete layout during a winter storm without breaking their budget.

This isn’t business fluff. These are 25 years of frozen fingers, misread soil reports, and stubborn pride in doing it right. We have cried over failed trenches in January rains. Cheered when our sand-filter system rescued 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 find yourself scrolling through septic companies wondering who isn’t going to disappear after the check clears? Remember the boys who still remember their first lesson from Gus: “A good system hides. A great system works while hiding.” We never just build this business—we grew it from the ground up, one genuine hole at a time.

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?