For many of us, it is the high point of winter – that moment when you find yourself on top of a mountain. The glare of sun on snow stings the naked eye and the snow itself is so crisp and deep that it’s tempting to roll in it like a terrier puppy. Instead, you click into your boots and – swoosh! – off you go, slip-sliding away. The hassle and expense of getting to this point are finally worth it. It’s a moment of pure freedom and elation.
But for Edward Bunn, one day last season, the exhilaration was short-lived. Bunn, 62, the co-director of Hickstead showjumping ground in West Sussex, wasn’t even skiing when he was hit.
