On Friday afternoon, the snow began to fall, and it fell fast.

By Friday night, the snow… On Friday afternoon, the snow began to fall, and it fell fast.

By Friday night, the snow started to stick, inches piling up like empty beer cans at stranded college students’ apartments.

Cars began to veer off roads. Students could be seen chucking snowballs and banding together to push burried vehicles from their snowy graves, only to watch the cars get stuck again minutes later. Power sporadically went out for some throughout the night.

Across Pitt’s campus, a single sentiment rang out from the student body: Welcome to Snowpocalypse 2010, everyone, and get ready to rage.

And did we ever — this weekend proved to be one of the greatest (and most random) partying weekends of the year. Eat your heart out, SempleFest.

I foolishly ventured to Hemingway’s Café on Friday night to meet a friend, expecting a near-empty bar due to the weather. I found quite the opposite — it was packed almost to capacity, full of beer-swilling students celebrating the season’s epic coming-out party. I heard stories of similar crowds at other bars, too.

The snow showed its appreciation by coming down even harder.

By 1 a.m., South Oakland had been officially transformed into a massive, snow-covered playground. Though met with disappointment by McDonald’s closing because of the inclement weather, my friend and I reveled in watching hoards of students chuck snowballs and frolic up and down the icy streets.

I went to sleep that night eagerly anticipating the light the morning would shed on this most momentous of occasions.

The next day, all of Pitt was apparently feeling the effects of the snow like a bad hangover. Cars were buried and local residents of South Oakland looked in despair at the shoveling task ahead of them.

Most students-residents, however, had no such concerns.

Around 2 p.m., a group of my friends and I decided to walk around and take in the experience of Snowpocalypse.

With snow pants on and a six-pack consumed, we began our trek. We started down Ward Street — Ernest Shackleton protégés with Ugg boots on our feet, beer in our bellies and a healthy sense of adventure.

As we entered the heart of South Oakland, we watched as students flocked in droves to one of the few Oakland establishments to remain open in the inclement weather — Mellinger’s Beer Distributor. Young men and women carried beer cases back to their apartment outposts as if they were rations on an Arctic expedition. Priorities took a very specific order during Snowpocalypse 2010.

We passed by a young man and woman multiple times, initially scoffing at their supposed work ethic to dig out their driveway. We were silenced when our fourth passing revealed the true fruit of their labor — a massive snow igloo, complete with decorative snow lawn sculpture.

While no one actually went in the igloo (not a safe idea), we marveled at their obvious craftsmanship and dedication.

There were snowballs thrown, cars pushed (“Rock it, rock it — NOW GO!”), more beer consumed and even snow angels made in a parking lot. A word of advice: If you are ever tempted to roll around in a snowy parking lot, make sure your phone is secured. Digging for a cell phone in a three foot pile of snow is the winter equivalent of searching for a needle in a haystack.

After hearing an enticing rumor that Chipotle was among the other select business open for the day, we headed up Semple Street, only to find a veritable frat party turned on its snowy head.

A makeshift beer pong table was nestled regally among a large group of college-aged persons, all socializing and rejoicing in the gifts the snow had brought. Someone spoke of playing a game where participants would jump out of a second-story window into a giant mound of snow, although I never found out how you won such a game. A young woman with a torn ACL hobbled around on self-proclaimed “snow crutches,” letting the healing power of snowy frolic work its magic.

But most importantly, an eight-foot mound of snow and dirt — apparently the result of the snow covering a street construction project — provided the arena for the Desk Chair Sled Olympics.

In the spirit of the upcoming Winter Olympic games, someone had constructed a masterfully-engineered contraption — also known as a sled made out of a computer desk chair, a wooden platform and a pair of old skis — suitable for transportation down a snow-covered incline.

Everyone took turns riding the homemade sled, each person trying to outdo the previous rider in terms of distance traveled and, more importantly, rider creativity. Two girls thought they had bested everyone by doubling up on the sled — they wound up with a face full of snow. My friend successfully made it down the hill and into a snow bank with his lit cigarette still intact.

It was my friend Amy and I, however, who garnered the most applause for our sledding interpretation of the cowgirl sex position. The pride we earned was worth more than any gold medal.

We eventually bid farewell to our newfound friends, and that is when I took my cue to leave. My legs were sore, my fingers cold and I had to pee — no easy task when snow pants are involved. When I got home, I lay down in bed, cranked the space heater, and reminisced about what an incredibly fun day it had been.

Snowpocalypse 2010 has been an experience likely to come around only once in an Pitt student’s career — if not a lifetime — and surely I and my companions were not the only ones to enjoy it to it’s fullest.

From what I witnessed, though, the adult equivalent of a snow day not only set the stage for students to have fun — it gave us the opportunity to become united in celebration under the bounds of an awesome winter blizzard.