Scottish Skiing is Hopeless

This is not my opinion but the opinion of a Swiss ski instructor. He was, however, referring to a period some years ago.
But his remark did remind me of the time a relative ( well not really related at all - wife's step-mother's new husband) began skiing. This was before WWII. You bought the skiis and bindings and had to fit them yourself. And the skis were about 3 feet taller than you were.
Anyway, Mr.Relative bought and sorted his skis, then headed for the hills with some pals. They drove until they found a gentle slope, beautifully covered with virgin snow. They got out of the car and Mr. Relative duly strapped on the skis. He set off most gracefully, with a magnificent hissss and swish, and reached the bottom of the slope, and came to a halt just as it began to turn upwards once more. Great shouts from his friends looking on.
And with that, it all came to a sticky end. The white stuff he was standing on started to move, and at an ever increasing speed. Judging discretion to be the better part of valour, he threw himself sideways, only to continue in the same direction. Shortly thereafter, the white stuff opened up - and unceremoniously dumped him on the hillside.
He had skied onto the backs of some sheep, minding their own business under the snow, in a sheltered spot.
I regret to say this can still happen.