After three hours of wrestling a steel snake that had a personal vendetta against my drywall, I hit something. Not a clog. A wall. The auger spun, whined, and then—silence.
Not flushes. Sighs. A deep, bubbling, almost mournful gurgle that seems to say, “I’m tired, boss.” septic main line clogged
The clog wasn't a giant hairball. It wasn't a toy car or a "flushable" wipe (those are liars, by the way). After three hours of wrestling a steel snake
I had punched through the side of my pipe. When the real plumber arrived (let’s call him Bob, a man who laughed exactly once—when he saw my auger), he stuck a camera down the line. We both stared at the monitor like it was the Super Bowl. septic main line clogged