Skijoring mates horsepower with ski racing and Bentley is mixing that up by replacing a single horsepower with 575 of them via a 6.0-litre W12 Continental GT. We clip into the skis and hold on tight.

An OMP Nomex suit, an Arai helmet and racing boots are my usual attire when undertaking motoring silliness. Today it's different; today it's my North Face Gore-Tex and Giro ski lid. Heavy thick plastic ski boots aren't much use for driving, even if the massive brushed metal pedals and auto box in the GT don't require much in the way of delicate footwork.

The Bentley I'm supposed to be steering should be clicked onto my feet. Zai, Bentley's official ski partner, makes a Bentley Supersports ski. At €7,500 it's a cheap Bentley, but a pricey ski. Enough for the people at Zai to take one look at the gravel that's mixed in with the snow, slush and puddles of this car park and put the Supersports skis back in the car.

Instead I click into a pair of zai's old test skis. Zai's Director Patrick Markus Aisher did mention their name, though I'm too scared to take note. Needless to say, given zai's hand-made, high tech ethos, they're still on the expensive side. Even so, he says they'll be written off afterwards.

So the skis will die; I just hope I'm not going to join them. Thankfully skijoring royalty is here in the guise of Frank Moro. He's followed more horses on skis than I've had après ski vins chaud, and has a bulging trophy cabinet indicating that he's pretty handy too. I'm looking forward to his advice. It's simple: "hold on tight."

Err, thanks for the insight Frank. I reckon I had that one covered. So picking up the reins with their leather and wood (not quite of the quality of that inside the Bentley) and eyes fixed on the back of the GT I do exactly that.

The engine revs flare, the reins tighten and the Continental GT's winter tyres get more grip than I'd imagined. The straight is easy enough; think fast ski lift and you're not far off, but it's the corners that I'm worried about. The first one is interesting, not least as the black fabric between the reins for preventing spray behind a horse doesn't really cut it when the snow is being kicked up by four fat tyres.

So I take Frank's advice and get around the first bend unscathed. Standing up too, if carrying a bit more snow on me than when I set off. Bentley's advanced driver Tim is doing the steering, braking accelerating in the car, while Steve keeps an eye on me out the window. Steve mentions later that he didn't need to, as inside they could feel my weight shifting about the back. I quickly realise I have an effect on the car, being able to affect its slippery tail sides in the snow by crossing to the opposite side in a weird ski-induced corrective steering adjustment. It's huge fun, though surprisingly tiring - probably not helped by me forgetting to breathe for most of the run.

A manky car park isn't great for speed so we quickly pack up and head up into the hills of Gstaad. A suitably snowy road is discovered and we're soon skijoring along at about 45mph. Quick, but not quick enough, though it is rapid enough to necessitate a system of communicating prior to braking to save me from creating a skier-shaped dent in the boot lid of the GT. Those reins are short and it's surprising how quickly the big GT slows on its winter tyres.

Good fun, though all this messing around has Bentley's people wondering whether there's ever been a record set for skijoring. I can't find anything official, which does rather leave this story unfinished. Asked later in the bar by Bentley's Michael Baumann how fast I'd be prepared to be towed I answer: "as fast as you'd dare." I may regret saying that sometime, but then again I may not...