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I need to tell you something you will not hear from the majority of septic companies: I've been waist-deep in raw sewage since I was a preteen years old. Sounds glamorous, right? Back in the heat of '98, my siblings and I thought our mother and father had gone and lost their minds. Instead of registering for little league like regular kids, we were carving out trenches for our family's new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. We had no idea those wounds would become our blueprint.

Here's the ugly truth the majority of companies won't admit: webpage Septic work ain't just about pipes and pumps. It's really about grasping what happens underground after the backhoe leaves. Most folks get into this business through maintenance vans. We? We launched with tools in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I'm never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, tossed me a level and barked, "Young man, if you are unable to lay pipe straight, you're gonna drown somebody's lawn in crap by Tuesday." He sure wasn't wrong. We invested three days that July fighting with a stubborn clay bed near Redmond—digging, measuring, groaning, repeat. But here's the surprise: Gus kept bringing us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could spot a dying drain field from 50 yards.

This is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While rivals were focused on buying expensive trucks, we were understanding why systems really fail. Like that nightmare 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 half-measures. Not once.

Fast forward to 2009. My brother Art (you will see his name all over our permits) practically bankrupted us requiring on verifying three times every perc test. "Don't forget the swamp house," he'd growl. We ate instant noodles for six months. But when the recession hit? Our systems kept functioning while others broke down. All at once, "Nikolin boys" became a thing mentioned between contractors.

Let me explain where we are different: We create systems like we'll have to repair them ourselves. Because you know what? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called freaking out about a holiday overflow. Art drove out in his turkey-stained shirt. Apparently her "maintenance-free" system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We never just repair it—we taught her grandson how to clean it.

You assume that's standard? Not a chance. The majority of companies push you on a $200/month care plan. We'd 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 invaded his leach field last spring, he spotted the wet grass before it became a disaster.

Our secret sauce? It ain't not secret at all. It is in the calluses. In the way Art still takes the phone at (425) 553-3422 directly. 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 compressed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But let me share the true magic: We turned each mistake into your advantage. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers standard. The "phantom flush" mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on each job. Even our tanks are unique—we spec heavier concrete after observing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Don't just take my testimony for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who tested us to tackle his sloping lot in Duvall. "No way," said three companies. We created him a pressurized system that's outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an too-small tank—we redesigned their whole layout during a winter storm without busting their budget.

This is not business fluff. It's 25 years of numb fingers, confusing soil reports, and stubborn pride in doing it properly. We've cried over caved-in trenches in January rains. High-fived when our sand-filter system saved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even laid to rest our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it broke during an legendary granite battle.

So if you're scrolling through septic companies thinking who will not vanish after the check clears? Remember the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: "A good system hides. A superior system works while hiding." We did not just create this business—we grew it from the ground up, one honest hole at a time.

Your turn. What is your system hiding?