I know it's the age of technology, and youngsters today are a different breed, but I was recently reminded of how it used to be in my day, when the world was flat.

In the fifties, when you were a kid, there was nothing more exciting than playing cowboys and Indians with your pals. And in my case, being a Pill boy, most of the games were played on the Gunkle..undoubtedly one of Milford's most iconic landmarks, and a heaven on earth for all of us in our growing up years.

After claiming the identity of one of the popular western "characters" of the day, "bags me be General Custer, " etc, and donning your, by now, well worn outfits, you were, as if by magic, instantly transformed into one of your favourite wild west gun-slinging, or tomahawk wielding heroes.

The Lone Ranger and Tonto readily spring to mind. The transformation, of course, was made easier after going to the "flicks", the Astoria or Empire and watching films featuring popular stars like Hopalong Cassidy, played by Bill Boyd, along with his loyal sidekick, Windy Halliday played by George "Gabby" Hayes. 

Another of the cowboy "stars" to be chosen was, of course, the impeccable Roy Rogers, and his equally famous, impeccable white steed, "Trigger." Quite often those of us who were blessed with a dog, renamed our pooch after one of the equine stars. I recall Tiny, my own black mongrel, on more than one occasion, becoming Topper, Hopalong's white horse, not to be ridden, of course, but because of the number of legs. 

Roy and his horse starred in so many movies and, some time later, television series, as, indeed, did Hopalong Cassidy. But we didn't really need a big screen, nor a small one, to help us play our cowboy games..no siree.

Our vivid, and lively imaginations were fired with inspiration just by reading weekly comics, and before TV's dominated our living rooms, we were able to ditch reality by avidly listening to the radio.

There was one series, which was the brainchild of a BBC guy called Charles Chilton, that captured the hearts of a huge proportion of the listening population, particularly youngsters, who greedily gobbled up the audio adventures like they were large hunks of their mums' delicious homemade chocolate sponge.

The programme was called "Riders of the Range," and its cowboy "hero" was Jeff Arnold, aided by his faithful dog, Rustler, and a bewhiskered sidekick with the handle, Luke.

The first series was broadcast from January to April 1949. Paul Carpenter played Jeff Arnold, and Charles Irwin was Luke. It wasn't wall to wall action though, as each episode contained four or five songs.

One of the singers was the popular Carole Carr, who, in the series, also played the daughter of a character known as the Rancher. She later became a regular vocalist on the Billy Cotton Band Show. Other regular songsters in Riders of the Range were the Four Ramblers, one of the members being a young Val Doonican.

Mr Chilton always claimed that the multiple coconuts cloppity-clopping in the background as horses' hooves, sounded even better than the real thing.

In fact, they had very few problems with the required sound effects.. except for an incident involving the dog, Rustler, who did it all by himself, as he sat beneath a grand piano, growling and barking on cue to the different hand signals.

The one big problem was, being a well trained police Alsatian, Rustler reacted instinctively, and aggressively, whenever he saw guns, and, for safety reasons, he was kept on a chain.

Unfortunately, the effects man, blissfully unaware of Rusty's gunphobia, one day arrived at the studio carrying a handful of pistols. Consequently there was a mixture of bedlam and hilarity as the terrified man was chased by a snarling piano. 

By the time the final series of Riders of the Range began in June 1953, it had become even more popular, having been added as a comic strip to the pages of the highly acclaimed Eagle comic.

Charles Chilton followed up "Riders" with another classic.. "Journey into Space." He passed away in 2013, but was without doubt, someone who provided we kids with escapism of the highest degree, allowing us to enjoy ourselves being cowboys in short trousers and daps.

Here are a couple of snaps from those wild-west days. One is from an episode of Riders of the Range and includes Rustler, making sure nobody was toting a gun. The other is from an early Hopalong Cassidy film.

Since my last column, I'm saddened to see that two of my most fervent TRM'ers have passed away, Oliver Harries and Barry Thynne, both of whom, over the years, got involved in some of my tales and memories. RIP and thank you. I leave you with more words of wisdom, these from Mark Twain. "Let us so live, that when we die, even the undertaker will be sorry." Take care, please stay safe.