Summer is far and away my favorite season and has become more so as the years have passed. Being able to soak up sunshine, enjoy the warmth and spend time in and on the water is ideal. If I have to wear pants and shoes, my baseline happiness is reduced. Unfortunately, as a teacher, I can’t afford to live in a place with endless summer like Hawaii or the Florida Keys, so I’m stuck here in the temperate zone.

It’s not all bad, though. As they say, variety is the spice of life. The Pacific Northwest is uniquely wonderful, in no small part because it actually has seasons.

Now, when asked, most people say fall is their favorite season. Sometimes I’ll say it’s mine as well just to fit in with my flannel-wearing, Carhartt beanie-donning PNW brethren, but it’s not sincere. Fall marks the end of my unfettered playtime, but I do get some small consolations in exchange for good weather and better fishing. I get fall foliage, football, maple- and pumpkin-flavored cuisine and a chance to show off my impressive-for-a-straight man scarf collection.

But even though it tries, it’s not summer.

In the years where the planets align, and we have a lingering spring where pollen counts aren’t off the charts, spring in the PNW is quite pleasant — especially when the water conditions cooperate to allow for great fishing, but this narrow band of idyllic weather seems to be measured in days — and rarely weeks — as opposed to months.

What does span months in the PNW is winter. It’s really our longest season, and it can start as early as September and stretch into May in the worst years.

Winter has its charms, but I quickly tire of the relentless cold. Since my only winter sports are eating pastries and playing indoor soccer and basketball — activities I do year-round that don’t require numbing cold — I could live without the icy roads and California- and Arizona-plated vehicles sliding all over them en route to “see Crater Lake in the winter.”

Winter remains the worst.

Congratulations, Luke, you’ve explained seasons in Washington and Oregon. What now?

Well if you’re anything like me, you are tiring of the oppressive cold and looking for a way to escape the house.

The simple solution pops up when the sun goes down.

Sundown

Most people think of catfish or bullheads when it comes to night fishing, but these invasive species are native to warmer climes. Their metabolism slows in the winter, so chasing them yields little success. That said, catfish have a lesser-known lookalike found in almost every single county in the Northwest called sculpins.

Most sculpins don’t grow very large (the average freshwater sculpin is less than 6 inches long at maturity), but they are simultaneously the most untapped and most enjoyable nighttime fishery in the Northwest.

Oregon has more freshwater sculpin species than anywhere else on earth, and Washington has a respectable number herself.

Ponds and lakes rarely have sculpins, as the water is too warm, but virtually every stream and river does. In short, sculpins are in the same waters where you can find wild trout, as they are one of the principal prey species for larger trout and coexist with them in uncompromised habitat. If the water is clean and cold, there are sculpins there.

Slightly slower water is ideal for targeting sculpins, which are often found within a few feet of shore at night. They can be tough to spot, but part of the fun is “hunting” for them. Just shoot for a night without rain or high winds, or you’ll be frustrated. You might also want to shoot for a warmer winter night that is in the 30s or, fingers crossed, even the 40s. Colder weather won’t stop the fish, but it will hamper you, dear angler.

In the summer, night microfishing means staying up at least until 9 p.m. In the winter, you can be night fishing before 5 p.m. Is staying up late worth the warmer weather? Absolutely. Am I grasping at straws to find any limited benefit of the cold? Absolutely.

What you need

Though chasing sculpins is “microfishing,” a fishing style rooted in Japan that intentionally targets tiny fish and is exponentially gaining popularity in the States, these fish have large mouths, so you don’t need specialized “micro” gear to catch them.

If you fly fish for smaller trout, you probably have everything you need already. Take your smallest nymph (ideally size 20 or smaller) and cut or burn off the hackles. Tie it to a light fluorocarbon leader about 3 or 4 feet long. Tie this to the broken rod tip you keep telling yourself you’re going to fix but never will. If you don’t have one (liar), use a stick, an ice fishing rod, or any short ultralight or tenkara rod — if you’re fancy. Put a tiny tin split shot (let’s stop using lead whenever possible, OK?) an inch or two above the hook and bait the hook with a teency piece of worm. Yes, I just wrote the word ‘teency’ in a syndicated column, but you’re reading about how to catch tiny fish at night in the dead of winter, so you have no room to judge.

Using a headlamp, walk around at night looking for sculpins. Their camouflage blends quite well, so they can be hard to spot.

Once you see one, drop your hook as close to the fish’s mouth as you can. Sometimes, they’re aggressive and hit immediately. Other times, you’re going to have to entice them. So. … like any type of fishing.

The catch

You’re going to catch them if they’re around. Apart from potentially being after their bedtime (less likely when it’s dark at 5 p.m.), this is a great way to fish with kids. I’ve yet to meet a kid under 12 who didn’t absolutely love microfishing. They can do everything themselves since it’s so engaging and interactive. You’ll probably see crayfish and other fish species, too.

While freshwater sculpins look mean, they don’t have sharp teeth, sharp spines or any venom, so they’re safe for kids to handle. As micros go, they’re also pretty durable, so they’re also somewhat safe from kids’ handling.

As with any fish you intend to release, always wet your hands before you touch them and never use gloves — no matter how cold it is.

They’re too small to keep, and a small handful of sculpin species have protected statuses, so be sure to handle with care and release your catch after getting some trophy shots for posterity.

Though warm summer nights are a great way to get into sculpin fishing, this is an activity for all seasons, and in the winter, it’s one of your only options. One caveat: it’s incredibly enjoyable, and you’ll find yourself having a lot more fun chasing these fish than most self-respecting trout or bass or salmon or sturgeon anglers care to admit.