There was a guy in Turkey in my local mountain, called "Grandpa Hasan". he started skiing at 73 years old. we shared the lift a few times with him. He told me that he was a stonemason and he didn't know how to read and write. He tried to teach his wife skiing but she told him "are you trying to kill me and get yourself a younger wife? I'll never do it!" He reminded me Moses, I wouldn't be suprised if I saw him carrying clay tablets in his backpack.
While I was looking a photo of him, I learned that he died YESTERDAY, on a car accident, while he was returning from his skating (yes, skating) lessons. RIP Grandpa Hasan.