Allow me to tell you something you won’t hear from the majority of septic companies: I have been elbow-deep in raw sewage since I was a preteen years old. Seems glamorous, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my family and I thought our folks had gone and lost their minds. Instead of registering for little league like normal kids, we were carving out trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. Who knew those calluses would transform into our blueprint.

Let me share the dirty truth most companies refuse to admit: Septic work is not just about pipes and pumps. It’s about knowing what goes on underground after the equipment leaves. The majority of folks enter this business through service vehicles. We? We began with tools 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 said, “Kid, if you are unable to lay pipe straight, you will drown someone’s lawn in sewage by Tuesday.” He wasn’t wrong. We spent three days that July fighting with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—digging, measuring, groaning, repeat. But here comes the kicker: Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, web site I could identify a dying drain field from 50 yards.

That is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While rivals were occupied with buying flashy trucks, we were discovering why systems really fail. Like that disaster project in ’03 where we watched a “expert” crew install a tank with zero regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Backyard looked like a wetland. We vowed then: No shortcuts. Not once.

Jump to 2009. My brother Art (you’re going to see his name all over our permits) almost bankrupted us requiring on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Think about the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate instant noodles for six months. But when the crash hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” was a thing shared between contractors.

Here’s where we stand different: We create systems like we will have to repair them ourselves. Because guess what? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called freaking out about a holiday overflow. Art went out in his gravy-covered shirt. As it happened her “no-service” system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We never just fix it—we showed her grandson how to clean it.

You assume this is standard? Think again. Most companies push you on a $200/month service plan. We would rather you understand your system. Like that time we mapped out drainage diagrams on Dave Miller’s kitchen table in Everett while his toddlers added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave’s willow tree roots attacked his leach field last spring, he noticed the soggy grass before it became a disaster.

Our special ingredient? It ain’t not secret at all. You’ll find it in the blisters. In the way Art still answers the phone at (425) 553-3422 directly. In the Instagram reel where my nephew facepalms at a DIYer’s “gravel-free drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—check us out 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 this is the actual magic: We turned every mistake into your advantage. That green 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 special—we spec heavier concrete after witnessing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Don’t just take my statement for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who tested us to manage his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We built him a pressurized system that has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose developer installed an inadequate tank—we reconfigured their entire layout during a snowstorm without breaking their budget.

This ain’t corporate fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, misunderstood soil reports, and fierce pride in doing it correctly. We have cried over failed trenches in January rains. Celebrated when our sand-filter system rescued a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even buried our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it shattered during an brutal granite battle.

So if you are scrolling through septic companies thinking who will not disappear after the check clears? Think about the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: “A decent system hides. A superior system works while hiding.” We didn’t just establish this business—we developed it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. Tell me what your system hiding?