THE morning light of the spring day had yet to emerge off the coast of Dover.

There by the chalky white cliffs stood a brave American woman on April 16 1912 pondering whether she should go forward with her bold plan to achieve something extraordinary. Her name was Harriet Quimby.

Quimby became America’s first licensed woman pilot in 1911. The Michigan born aviator was on the coast of Southeastern England to fly her Blériot XI monoplane across the English Channel as the first woman pioneer to ever achieve that feat. With several people advising her not to fly that day, Quimby boarded the primitive aircraft dressed in purple wool-back satin clothing, two pairs of silk combinations underneath, and a long coat.

At 0530, Quimby guided the plane down the crude runway, and took flight. Flying over Dover Castle, her visibility soon became significantly hampered by the fog. Quimby wrote, “The fog quickly surrounded me, like a cold, wet, gray blanket." She then battled to get high enough above the heaviest of the mist to an altitude of 6,000 feet.

Imagine the in-flight situation of this extraordinary woman – it’s hard to actually to do. She was flying in 1912 across a dangerous channel without any sight and no modern equipment. Quimby only carried a simple compass and a watch. Yet, she carried something else. Beneath her bright smile was a resilience, determination, and bravery that is an example to us all.

After an hour or so of flying, Quimby decided that surely, she was close to coast of France. She decided to begin and rapid decent. As she did this gasoline flooded the engine and it backfired. She felt fear, but preserved. Eventually the engine stabilised and Quimby saw a spot to land on a French coastal beach. After she landed, she turned off the engine, and for a moment was alone.

No doubt she took a deep breath. She had made it. Then some fisherman and their families emerged, and they lifted her up in celebration of her achievement. And while the transatlantic crossing of American Charles Lindbergh was truly extraordinary and certainly longer, the flight of Quimby was 15 years before his historic flight.

Sadly, Quimby died shortly after this historic event in an airline accident in Massachusetts, but her example lives on. I take many lessons from the English Channel flight and life of Harriet Quimby. I especially embrace her attribute of moving forward in the midst of challenge. When we are faced with adversity or those moments when the lifespace ahead is misty and uncertain, we can turn to something within ourselves that will carry us forward.

Ultimately, the most important directional compass we possess is that one within ourselves. We need to trust that compass, trust ourselves that we have the ability and talent to get to the destination we seek. And while we will encounter challenge along the way, we need to lean into that internal navigational equipment – hold it close – stay determined – take flight.

Ian Houston is a regular columnist for this paper. He resides in the Washington, DC area.