The Llama Trike HT10 Is a Beast, But Can You Actually Tame It?

The garage door groans. It always does when I wheel out something that weighs as much as a small refrigerator.

Standing there in the harsh morning light, the Llama Trike HT10 looks less like a mobility solution and more like a piece of industrial farming equipment that got lost on its way to a John Deere catalog. It is wide. It is imposing. And with those Kenda 20" x 4.0" Fat Tires, it looks ready to crush aggressive vegetation—or perhaps a small sedan.

Most electric trikes are polite. They apologize for taking up space. This one doesn’t.

I’ve spent the last two weeks living with this aluminum behemoth, pushing it through rain, mud, and unforgiving city pavement. If you’re looking for a gentle cruiser to pedal around the retirement community, stop reading. Close the tab. This machine will hurt your feelings.

But if you want to understand what happens when engineers stop asking “Why?” and start asking “How much power can we legally get away with?”—then stay right here.

The Power Problem (And Yes, It’s a Problem)

Let’s talk about the motors. Plural.

Most e-trikes settle for a single 500W motor and call it a day. The HT10 laughs at that strategy. It runs front and rear 48V 750W geared hub motors. That’s 1,500 watts of nominal power—with peak output that feels very much like it’s pushing the limits of good behavior.

When you engage the throttle, it doesn’t feel like acceleration.

It feels like relocation.

Torque arrives instantly. Because both wheels are driving, there’s no awkward wheel slip or hesitation. It just digs in and goes. I pointed it at a 15% grade that normally makes my mid-drive mountain bike complain. The HT10 didn’t slow below 12 mph. It simply hummed and dragged itself uphill like a powered winch.

This is where the 7-level torque sensor earns its keep.

I usually despise cadence sensors. They behave like light switches—on or off. With this much power, that would be dangerous. Llama Trike made the right call. The torque sensor responds to how hard you push, delivering power smoothly and proportionally.

You push. It amplifies.

It feels bionic instead of robotic.

The Elephant in the Corner

Spend five minutes on any trike forum and you’ll see the same warning repeated:

“I turned too fast—and it tipped.”

Here’s the reality: trikes do not lean. Bikes lean. Motorcycles lean. Your body wants to lean. The HT10, with its rigid 6061 aluminum alloy frame, stays flat.

Physics is unforgiving.

At speed, centrifugal force has nowhere to go except sideways—straight through you. The HT10 isn’t unstable. It’s honest. It demands respect.

You don’t ride this like a bicycle. You ride it like an ATV. You shift your weight. You lean your torso into the turn while the trike remains upright.

Sit upright and crank the handlebars, and the inside rear wheel will lift. That’s not a flaw. That’s Newton collecting his debt.

The Battery That Refuses to Die

Range anxiety is real. The HT10 eliminates it.

Under the seat lives a 48V 60Ah SK Innovation NCM battery.

For context: most e-bikes carry 14–20Ah. This thing is effectively three batteries welded into one. It changes how you think about riding.

During testing—200 lb rider, 50 lb of gear, dual motors active—I rode for four hours and covered 55 miles. The CURTIS 5” LCD display still showed about 40% remaining.

You stop planning rides around charging points. You stop checking the battery bar.

This isn’t a recreational toy.

It’s transportation.

Where the Rubber Meets Everything

The Kenda 20" x 4.0" fat tires do most of the suspension work here. Yes, there’s a front suspension fork—but the tires are the real heroes.

I ran them at 12 PSI. At that pressure, gravel disappears. Potholes become suggestions. I rode straight over crushed brick and loose construction debris without flinching.

Between the massive footprint and AWD traction, the HT10 handles sand, snow, mud, and soft ground far better than any trike has a right to.

The trade-off? Noise. On pavement, those tires announce your presence with a constant wub-wub-wub that no bell could ever match.

Stopping a Moving Building

Big motors. Heavy frame. Huge battery.

Momentum is not your friend.

Stopping is handled by KARASAWA oil hydraulic disc brakes. I’d never heard of them before. I was skeptical.

I shouldn’t have been.

They bite hard, with excellent modulation. In one test, a delivery van pulled out in front of me at 22 mph. I grabbed both levers.

The tires chirped. The rear end wiggled.

Then the HT10 stopped—fast, straight, and drama-free.

The Verdict: Who Is This For?

This is not a toy.

It’s barely a bicycle.

If you live upstairs? Forget it. If you want a lightweight fitness ride? Look elsewhere. If you expect forgiveness when cornering aggressively? This is not your machine.

But if you need to haul groceries across broken roads… If you want to ride beaches, trails, or snow-covered paths… If you have mobility limitations but still want real power and real range…

Then the Llama Trike HT10 makes sense.

It’s overbuilt. Overpowered. Heavy. Unapologetic.

It demands space in your garage and respect in every corner.

And for the right rider?

It’s absolutely worth taming.