https://www.afar.com/magazine/lilian-bland-the-flying-feminist-who-built-her-own-plane

After successfully flying her biplane like a kite, Bland began to
work on designing a full-size glider in the estate’s workshop, which was left
behind by her late uncle General William James Smythe, a member of the Royal
Society, replete with a bench and tools. If the design flew, Bland reasoned, she
would add an engine later. And so she got to work: molding ash for wood spars
and skids, spruce for the plane’s ribs and stanchions, and bamboo for
outriggers. She fashioned a steering mechanism out of a bicycle handlebar:
Turning the handle to the right raised the right-hand elevator on the tail and
depressed the left, as the wires were crossed. She added pedals to control the
vertical rudder. For wing fabric, Bland bought six-foot sheets of unbleached
calico muslin, which she dunked and soaked in batches of gelatin and formalin to
render them waterproof. The workshop was small in size, so Bland finished the
plane, section by section, carrying each piece to the coach house for assembly.
The wingspan, when finished, was 27 feet, 7 inches.

But five weeks of lashing rain and gusting winds prevented her trials. Finally,
in September of 1910, the day was calm, and she was ready. Bland climbed into
the cockpit, and Blain, standing between the tail booms, began swinging the
propeller with a whip of his arms. The grass was still wet, but the Mayfly took
off anyway—after a few stuttering bounces—rising to 30 feet for a quarter of a
mile and scattering bystanders below. “I have flown!” Bland wrote to Flight in
the days following, describing her feat. She was triumphant.

Bland was encouraged by her progress and began offering her biplanes, without an
engine, for £250 and gliders for £80. Yet there was little interest, and she
soon realized her own paradox: The Mayfly needed more power to fly longer
distances, but a more powerful engine would threaten the integrity of the
plane’s delicate materials. Amid her hesitations, Bland’s father, who considered
her aviation pursuits “dangerous and unbecoming,” made her an offer: He would
buy her a new Model-T Ford if she gave up flying. Bland agreed, and within weeks
the engine was sold. The Mayfly was donated as a glider to a local boys’ club.
“I had proved wrong the many people who had said that no woman could build an
aeroplane, and that gave me great satisfaction,” said Bland.