I need to tell you something you will not hear from the majority of septic companies: I have been buried in raw sewage since I was 12 years old. Looks glamorous, right? Back in the heat of ’98, my family and I thought our mother and father had lost their minds. Instead of signing up for little league like typical kids, we were excavating trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. Little did we know those blisters would transform into our blueprint.

This is the harsh truth the majority of companies refuse to admit: Septic work isn’t just about equipment. It is about knowing what occurs underground after the backhoe leaves. The majority of folks enter this business through pumping trucks. We? We launched with implements in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I’ll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, tossed me a level and said, “Boy, if you cannot lay pipe straight, you’ll drown a person’s lawn in crap by Tuesday.” He wasn’t wrong. We dedicated three days that July battling with a difficult clay bed near Redmond—shoveling, measuring, cursing, repeat. But here comes the twist: Gus kept bringing us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could recognize a failing drain field from 50 yards.

That is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While competitors were occupied with buying fancy trucks, we were understanding why systems really fail. Like that disaster project in ’03 where we witnessed a “certified” crew install a tank with zero regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Property looked like a swamp. We vowed then: No shortcuts. Ever.

Jump to 2009. My brother Art (you will see his name all over our permits) practically bankrupted us insisting on verifying three times every perc test. “Think about the swamp house,” he would growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” was a thing mentioned between contractors.

Here’s where we stand different: We create systems like we’re going to have to fix them ourselves. Because guess what? We typically do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called panicking about a holiday emergency. Art went out in his turkey-stained shirt. Turned out her “no-service” system installed in 2015 had a filter no one told her about. We never just repair it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You believe that is standard? Think again. The majority of companies want you on a $200/month service plan. We’d rather you understand homepage 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 waterlogged grass before it became a disaster.

Our secret sauce? 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 “stone-less drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—subscribe for laughs and solid tips). It is in the YouTube video where we compressed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But here’s the actual magic: We’ve turned each setback into your gain. That mossy disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers by default. The “phantom flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on all job. Even our tanks are special—we spec heavier concrete after witnessing how Pacific Northwest winters crack cheaper models.

Don’t just take my statement for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who dared us to manage his sloping lot in Duvall. “No way,” said three companies. We constructed him a pressurized system that has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an too-small tank—we rebuilt their entire layout during a blizzard without busting their budget.

This ain’t marketing fluff. This is 25 years of frozen fingers, confusing soil reports, and fierce pride in doing it right. We have cried over collapsed trenches in January downpours. High-fived when our sand-filter system rescued a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even interred our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it snapped during an brutal granite battle.

So if you’re scrolling through septic companies wondering who will not evaporate after the check clears? Remember the boys who still recall their first lesson from Gus: “A solid system hides. A excellent system works while hiding.” We didn’t just create this business—we developed it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?