공지사항

Let me explain to you something you will not hear from nearly all septic companies: I've actually been waist-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 gone and 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. Who knew those calluses would turn into our blueprint.

This is the ugly truth most companies won't admit: Septic work isn't just about hardware. It's really about grasping what occurs underground after the machinery leaves. The majority of folks enter this business through service vehicles. We? We began with shovels in our hands and mud up to our knees.

I'm never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, handed me a level and said, "Young man, if you can't lay pipe straight, you're gonna drown a person's lawn in waste 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 taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could spot a failing drain field from 50 yards.

That's the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While competitors were occupied with buying fancy trucks, we were discovering why systems really fail. Like that disaster project in '03 where we witnessed a "professional" crew install a tank with no regard for web page soil percolation. Three months later? Yard looked like a marsh. We promised then: No shortcuts. Never.

Skip ahead to 2009. My brother Art (you will see his name all over our permits) almost bankrupted us insisting on triple-checking every perc test. "Think about the swamp house," he would growl. We ate instant noodles for six months. But when the crash hit? Our systems kept working while others broke down. Suddenly, "Nikolin boys" became a thing whispered between contractors.

Here's where we are different: We build systems like we will have to fix them ourselves. Because you know what? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville rang in crisis about a holiday backup. Art drove out in his turkey-stained shirt. As it happened her "no-service" system installed in 2015 had a filter no one told her about. We never just solve it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You believe this is standard? Not a chance. The majority of companies push you on a $200/month care plan. We rather you understand your system. Like that time we drew drainage diagrams on Dave Miller's kitchen table in Everett while his kids added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave's willow tree roots penetrated his leach field last spring, he spotted the soggy grass before it turned into a disaster.

Our magic formula? It's not secret at all. It's in the calluses. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 personally. In the Instagram reel where my nephew groans at a DIYer's "stone-less drain field masterpiece" (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for laughs and legit tips). You'll see it 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 all mistake into your advantage. That mossy disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers automatically. The "mysterious backup" mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on every job. Even our tanks are different—we spec heavier concrete after seeing how Pacific Northwest winters crack cheaper models.

Please don't just take my word 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 that has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an inadequate tank—we reconfigured their complete layout during a blizzard without busting their budget.

This isn't corporate fluff. It's 25 years of frozen fingers, misread soil reports, and stubborn pride in doing it correctly. We cried over failed trenches in January rains. Cheered when our sand-filter system preserved 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're scrolling through septic companies thinking who isn't going to disappear after the check clears? Think about the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: "A solid system hides. A superior system works while hiding." We never just establish this business—we developed it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. What is your system hiding?