Gilchrest Just as Content In Defeat

In a town obsessed with appearances, he was a different kind of politician.

He had developed a habit of growing a beard and then shaving it all off, partly to avoid daily shaving. For much of 1996, he used a paperclip to hold together his broken glasses.

Perhaps because he had won his seat by claiming the moral high ground, he seemed unwilling to relinquish it. From 1991 until last year, he refused to take money from political action committees, saying he didn't want his votes tainted by business interests.

Prone to philosophical musings, he explained each vote as though giving a treatise on his beliefs, which often clashed with those of his party leaders.

He saved his most impassioned speeches, however, for the environment. He quit teaching in 1976 to become a ranger in the Idaho wilderness. And he carried that passion into Congress, even bringing in a Harvard specialist to tutor then-House Speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) on biodiversity.

Recently, however, his stands against the party leadership gained visibility, particularly after he was one of two Republicans to vote for a timeline on withdrawing troops from Iraq.

He never seemed interested in becoming a permanent part of the Washington establishment, and he often talked about quitting to pursue other interests. With the end in sight, Gilchrest said, "it feels great, like being released from bondage."

And what will he do now that he's free?

"I plan to probe at the fabric of life," he said.