Allow me to share with you something you won’t hear from the majority of septic companies: I’ve been elbow-deep in raw sewage since I was 12 years old. Seems appealing, right? Back in the summer of ’98, my siblings and I thought our parents had lost their minds. Instead of signing up for little league like normal kids, we were excavating trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. Little did we know those wounds would turn into our blueprint.

This is the ugly truth the majority of companies will not admit: Septic work is not just about hardware. It is about grasping what occurs underground after the equipment leaves. The majority of folks start in this business through pumping trucks. We? We started with tools in our hands and mud up to our knees.

I will never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, website handed me a level and barked, “Kid, if you can’t lay pipe straight, you will drown a person’s lawn in sewage by Tuesday.” He was not wrong. We spent three days that July wrestling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—excavating, measuring, cursing, repeat. But this is the kicker: Gus kept bringing us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could recognize a failing drain field from 50 yards.

That’s the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While rivals were focused on buying expensive trucks, we were understanding why systems actually fail. Like that nightmare project in ’03 where we watched a “certified” crew install a tank with absolutely no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Yard looked like a swamp. We vowed then: No shortcuts. Ever.

Jump to 2009. My brother Art (you’ll see his name all over our permits) practically bankrupted us requiring on verifying three times every perc test. “Think about the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept functioning while others broke down. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” became a thing whispered between contractors.

Here’s where we stand different: We construct systems like we will have to fix them ourselves. Because here’s the thing? We often do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville phoned panicking about a holiday overflow. Art drove out in his gravy-covered shirt. Turned out her “no-service” system installed in 2015 had a filter nobody told her about. We didn’t just solve it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You believe this is standard? Wrong. The majority of companies push you on a $200/month care plan. We’d rather you comprehend your system. Like that time we drew 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 magic formula? It’s not secret at all. It’s in the blisters. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew groans at a DIYer’s “gravel-free drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for laughs and legit tips). It’s in the YouTube video where we condensed a 72-hour install in pouring Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

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

Do not just take my statement for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who tested us to tackle his sloping lot in Duvall. “Impossible,” said three companies. We created him a pressurized system which has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an inadequate tank—we reconfigured their whole layout during a blizzard without exceeding their budget.

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

So if you are scrolling through septic companies questioning who won’t vanish after the check clears? Remember the boys who still remember their first lesson from Gus: “A solid system hides. A superior 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 is your system hiding?