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Beartrap Contessa: Does Sarah Palin Have What It Takes to Become a Reality Star?

TLC premiered Sarah Palin's Alaska last night, and what did we learn? For starters, she still talks like a Denny's menu (Have ya tried the Little Tiny Salmon Underfoot?), she has a TV studio in her house, and her kids seemed uninterested in being a part of more grizzly metaphors. But because Palin's wearing Adidas track pants and gushing in confessionals like JWOWW, we're excited by these revelations -- she's a rootin' tootin' reality star who's welcoming us in for a bunch of postcard shots of "the Last Frontier" and her wilderness-wanderin' ESPN3 existence. Forget that whole she-might-actually-try-to-run-for-president sideshow: She's sharing airtime with the Gosselins now, formally inviting us to gape at her menacingly like a coupla' Kodiak cubs. Let's take advantage.

This is going to shock you if you've not seen the light of day since early 2008, but Sarah Palin is preternaturally good with soundbites. "I love this state like I love my family," she says at the top of the episode. "Some of my best memories include taking road trips across the state with my family, looking for adventures." But as she storms about the Yukon in a shock-red powersuit like some '80s prefab Carmen Sandiego, her children are concerned with more domestic things: McKinley likes licking the cake beaters when mom's not looking; Piper likes calling mom "Sarah" to win her attention; Willow is dating a nervous young man who apparently is not allowed to sit in her bedroom with her. They've graduated with honors from TLC Watchability Camp. The patriarch of the household, the snowmobilin' Todd Palin, is the only other outdoorsy troubadour in sight. We'll need him around if Sarah intends her excursions to feel like anything more than unenthusiastic family vacays.

"You can see Russia from here!" Sarah says, sitting atop something mountain-y. "Almost."

Nyet, Sarah. That's enough Tina Fey references for the rest of the series.

But better than Russians spying on the Palin residence like grotsky lil' socialists, someone else is peeking at the Palins from a neighboring house -- a blurred-out Caucasian face who sits on his back porch with a notepad.

"He's writing a hit piece on us!" Sarah clamors. "How would you feel if some dude who you know was out to get ya was out [and looking at] yer kids?"

I'd be reeling him into a guest role, Sarah. I'd look to him as a Wilson-from-Home Improvement figure and ask him to advise on political manners and my business attire. And of course, Randy's cancer.

"I had Todd build a 15-foot fence!" Sarah continues. "And I said, 'This is what we need to do to secure our nation's border.'"

She seriously said something like that. She "went there," as us Degrassi fans say. We won't, simply because we don't have the time to point out every instance where it seems like TLC is making fun of Palin. You'll find that about this series, which is sad. But anyhoo! Sarah arranges a "floatplane" to land on her lake and transport her, Todd, Piper, and McKinley to Big River Lake, a scenic fishing location southwest of Wasilla.

"Unfortunately we do lead the nation in fatalities in these airplanes too," she says. "But it's pretty cool to know that I can just step out in my front yard, and there's a plane out there that I get to hop into."

Remember when my Carmen Sandiego metaphor was spot-on? Maybe in the season finale she can steal the Arc de Triomphe, toss it into a floatplane, and make a break for Anchorage.

Once we make it to Big River Lake (Wait, river and lake? Which one is the lie, Sarah?), Sarah formally begins her Discovery Channel narrations.

"It's known for a real dense population of bears," she explains. "I really hope Piper and McKinley will have that treat of seeing a mama grizzly."

Her wish is TLC's command: Once the Palins descend into a fishing boat, produce rods, and stand around like rogues in a Northface catalog, they spot a pair of brown bears circling each other near the shore.

"Before we know it, you look up and there's a bear! And it keeps you on yer heels because you need to remember what they can do to a person!" Sarah says. "You're in their territory, and they're going to let you know that. A lot of the times they want you out of their territory, if they think you're stealing their food."

Here comes Sarah's first mama-bear lesson to her family. Blur out your face and take notes.

"So girls," she says to her daughters. "When you cast [your line], don't aim towards the bear."

So she's not exactly Joan Embery yet. I accept her anyway!

"These bears have a nature than humankind can learn from," she continues, just as the bears start wrestling like juiced-up, Greco-Roman frat boys.

OK, remember when I accepted Sarah Palin a few seconds ago? Now I'm on the (15-foot, illegal immigrant-dissuadin') fence.

We watch the beautiful bears punch each other in the face for a second before Sarah observes that she shouldn't sit next to them anymore.

"It could think that we are its lunch instead of those little tiny salmon underfoot!" she says, packing up to leave even though she and the family haven't caught any fish. "But you know what they say, 'A poor day of fishing beats a great day of work.' "

No one has ever said that, but fine. We head back to Palin Manor for a split second and watch teenage daughter Willow mope up the stairs to get dressed while her boyfriend is forced to sit in the living room and wait. Not so thrilling. Let's get back to nature.

For the remainder of the episode (and after a weird interlude where Sarah is interviewed by Bill O'Reilly via satellite), Sarah and Todd flee to Denali National Park, which is larger than the state of New Hampshire and colder than Katie Couric's questions. They board the floatplane but find that conditions are too hazy.

"If Mother Nature decides we're not gonna do it, well, she's in charge," Sarah explains. Mother Nature's pantsuit is in an austere and cloudy gray today, so I don't blame her.

She and Todd wait until the next day to attempt the trek again, but Sarah's got some reservations once they finally hit the mountain.

"Those crevasses," she sputters, "they can just suck you in because you don't see 'em comin'."

It's actually an understatement to say Sarah sounds like Tina Fey-as-Sarah Palin sometimes. She sometimes sounds like Judy Tenuta attempting to impersonate Tina Fey-as-Sarah Palin. And you know this woman has played an accordion before.

In the episode's last act, Sarah and Todd scale a big mountain while Sarah keeps admitting that she's afraid of heights.

"This is not flippin' easy," Sarah says. That would sound cool coming out of Missy Elliott's mouth, but the only thing Sarah's "working" here is major soccer-mom vernacular.

Nonetheless, the two complete the ascent. Sarah's final appraisal of Todd's skills are kinda-sorta cute.

"He climbed that thing like a mountain goat climbin' up some shell and actin' like it was no big deal."

We've reached the point where I can't actually understand Sarah's accent. "Shell"? Did she mean "shale"? Because she said "deal" like "dill," and I'm trying to convert all the rootsy twang fairly. Maybe I'm not cut out for Sarah Palin's Alaska. My floatplane does not come equipped with a translator.

Will we all return for next week's episode? Speaking for myself, yes. You never know what kind of grizzly metaphor will emerge next, and better yet, you don't know if Willow's boyfriend will win a spinoff series with Jon Gosselin. So for everyone's sake, I forge ahead into this fast, bottomless crevasse. It snuck up on me!