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Had I been hiking solo, as I usually do, I would have figured it out on my own. But today was different. Our group had made a decision, and we were going to make it through together. An hour later, we were sweaty and shaky but high-fiving and triumphant. It was hard to believe we鈥檇 known each other for less than 24 hours.

I鈥檓 an avid hiker, but I tend to set out alone. Until this trip, my treks had been limited to whatever I could accomplish in a single day. I longed to go further, but since I鈥檇 never purposely spent a single night without electricity, camping was out of the question.

Then I received an invitation to venture deep into the White Mountains, where I would scale the four peaks of the Presidential Range, including the 6,288-foot-high Mount Washington, over three full days of hiking. Beyond the physical challenge, I looked forward to taking in the lush green valleys, sheer granite rockfaces and deep forests of this dramatically beautiful region.

The route would be steep, rocky and gruelling 鈥� hikers average about 1.6 kilometres an hour 鈥� and I鈥檇 be carrying nearly 20 pounds of water and gear, too. Instead of camping, I鈥檇 bed down in two trailside huts, rustic way-stations owned by the , which offer travellers dinner and breakfast, as well as cold running water and bunk beds with mattresses.

The trip was organized by (part of Intrepid Travel), which runs all-inclusive hiking adventures all over the world. In addition to meals and a guide, Wildland provided us with necessary gear, including backpacks, sleeping bags and hiking poles.

It sounded perfect, but with one caveat: I鈥檇 be the sole travel writer, hiking with a group of six strangers. Questions flooded my mind: What if they slowed me down? What if I slowed them down? Would they laugh at my sleep mask? How awkward would it be when I needed to find an out-of-the-way tree?

Fortunately, since Wildland hadn鈥檛 sugar-coated the trip鈥檚 rigours, everyone arrived prepared to do the work, and we clomped along at a decent pace. We also had a terrific guide in Hirt, a knowledgeable outdoorsman whose presence allowed us to focus on the experience and not the map.

The camaraderie came naturally. It started as we pulled each other up steep gullies, held backpacks to allow for two-handed scrabbling, and offered arms for balance. Later, we joked about the bad coffee, our increasingly dirty hair and, since we slept in mixed-gender rooms with other hikers, whether anyone else had been awakened by the earthquake-level snoring from the guy in the top bunk. They taught me the rules of Uno, and we played for hours by torchlight.

By the last day, we were splitting diminishing supplies of Advil and passing around a single candy bar to power through that final mile.

Going into this experience, my biggest fear had been giving up a sense of control, especially as a typically solo hiker accustomed to setting my own pace. But I soon discovered that travelling as part of a group can be enriching rather than claustrophobic.

Just a few hours in, I realized this was more like a book club, where someone鈥檚 observation about the plot line or a scene can suddenly flip your whole perspective. I鈥檇 arrived at the trail with expectations and trepidation, but I left seeing the experience with new eyes.

Katie McElveen travelled as a guest of Wildland Trekking, which did not review or approve this article.