Actually it would have been the bottom of the hill.
At the bottom was an old rock wall... Much crumbled... There was a gap in the wall that we all tried to sled thru. If you happened to hit one side of the gap or the other a little high, the end of your ride would be your body flying solo - no sled!
Phil had a tiny kids Flexible Flier. He would sit and steer with his feet. He could fly down that hill and I don't recall him ever hitting the rocks. Massachusetts in winter. We must have been nine years old.