Hype may be the new four-letter word. It’s everywhere, pervasive and inescapable. Whatever your interests, whatever media you consume, I can almost guarantee there is a subset dedicated to hyping the “next big thing.” The world of watches is no different, and although I might try to maintain a healthy distance from it, I occasionally find myself sucked right in.

That is why, when I recently got the invite to spend some time with a Rolex GMT Master II 126711CHNR (more commonly and affectionately known as the modern incarnation of the “Root Beer” due to its color scheme), I jumped at the chance. A local jeweler informed me that a longtime customer was bringing in some watches for service and was willing to loan me their personal Root Beer. After reaching the jeweler, I was treated to a cup of coffee and a friendly conversation with their head watchmaker and the owner of the watch in question. It’s always nice to meet a fellow member of the #watchfam out in the wild. While they asked to remain anonymous, I extend my heartfelt thanks for their trust. Two-tone beauty in hand, I set out for my day of adventure with the watch.

Before we get started, this is not intended to be a full review or digestion of the Root Beer’s specs, as there have been hundreds of articles dedicated to that on other sites. This piece is more about how the watch made me feel during my brief affair with it.

I’ve written about my complicated feelings about Rolex before, in a comparison between the Explorer 214270 and sister brand Tudor’s Black Bay 36. Those feelings remain pretty unchanged, and while I appreciate and admire Rolex, I think they are a victim of their own hype, though “victim” seems an inappropriate term for a company that made nearly $9 billion USD in 2021. Anything they do tends to get amplified over and over in the public discourse, and the company’s every move tends to get scrutinized and criticized to a perhaps unfair degree. Regardless, they continue to be wildly successful among both horology enthusiasts and the lay watch-buying public.

So let's talk about my experience with this watch. Perhaps we should start with the nickname, Root Beer, since that is how I will refer to it throughout this piece. It is worth noting that there is some controversy surrounding the monicker since this is not a perfect match for the original GMT Master II that got that nickname in the 1970s. That iconic watch, reference 1675/3, introduced a new variant of the bicolor GMT bezel splitting daylight and nighttime hours: a very era-appropriate brown and cream-gold that paired well with the two-tone bracelet. Its modern incarnation trades out the gold for rose gold, and goes for a more understated black and brown bezel. Setting aside the argument of whether it is a true successor to the original Root Beer GMTs, it certainly occupies the same funky spot in the product line.

Everose crown and bezel with Cerachrome insert

I like Rolex a lot, or perhaps I should say I appreciate Rolex. Their watches are impeccable in their design and manufacturing, even those I don't personally like. That said, Rolex often leaves me cold. They seem first and foremost to be financial assets and that's hard to get passionate about. My Explorer 214270 is a watch I deeply admire but it is fairly cold and sterile. It's a tool, perhaps a surgical instrument.

The Root Beer, on the other hand, seems to buck that trend. This watch exudes warmth. Much of that is due to the rose gold Everose and the rich, coffee brown of the bezel's daylight half. At over $16,000 USD (retail) I would never call this watch down to earth, but it certainly looks less fussy than, say, a Daytona, and less imposing than the single-color bezels on the Submariner and its siblings. The use of Everose (rose gold to the rest of us, though Rolex uses a proprietary alloy) also dresses it down a bit compared to the brand’s yellow gold options.

It seems almost perverse to refer to anything Rolex does as iconoclastic, but the Root Beer has always been a bit off the beaten path compared to the Submariner, the Datejust, and, yes, its predecessor, the infamous Pepsi GMT. While most Rolexes are desirable just for being a Rolex, the Root Beer is among those models like the Milgauss that appeal to a smaller market. They are not nearly as ubiquitous as Day-Dates or Submariners.

The iconic dial, complete with Everose hands

My day with the Root Beer was like a day with a friend visiting from out of town. I did touristy things with it and discreetly looked for the prettiest spots to photograph it, from the lakefront to the … parking lot of the local Target. I didn’t have a ton of time with it, alright? I enjoyed every moment with it, and I spent a lot of time thinking about it and looking at it. Whenever it peeked out from under my jacket and that Everose caught the sunlight, I was reminded I was wearing something special. Every aspect of it is impeccably finished, and while it may not be a revolutionary watch, it’s the culmination of a century of Rolex’s well-honed craft. Even when the light caught a subtle scratch on a rose gold bracelet link, it only served to highlight how unusual a watch it truly is.

The warm rose gold and brown catching the sunlight, along with Rolex’s elusive crown etching on the crystal (over the 6 o’clock hour marker). Difficult to get in focus, especially with a phone camera!

I spent the afternoon with it in the makeshift home photo studio, trying to capture every angle, every detail to appreciate later, in case I never get to handle another one. Putting it under the macro lens revealed even more beautiful facets of it, but also served to take some of the mystique out of it. Like every other Rolex, it is manufactured with clinical precision, and the perfection of it undercuts that cavalier warmth I mentioned earlier.

As the sun began to go down on my day out with the Root Beer, it was time to face some bitter truths. The entire time I had the watch in my possession, I was keenly aware of how much money was dangling off my wrist. It was not a comfortable feeling, especially since it wasn’t my watch. Even if it was, I don’t know that I could ever truly feel relaxed with it on. My watches get dinged and scratched. That’s a fact of life when you buy them to wear them, but none of mine cost nearly so much, and none of them are made of such a soft material as the Everose. There is also the consideration of its intended function as a traveler’s watch. While it works great for the purpose of telling time in multiple time zones, I wouldn’t dare wear it while traveling for fear of it getting torn off my wrist or lost.

Rolex’s proprietary Chromalight lume, casting a cool blue glow against the night

Beyond the price tag is the aesthetic. I unabashedly love both the original Root Beer and its modern incarnation, and I do own and wear some fairly ostentatious timepieces, but this here is a level of flash and flair I can only aspire to. I believe anyone should be able to wear what they like, but I fear the Root Beer would overshadow any clothing I might wear. Luckily, it’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to afford one, so it’s a problem I should be able to avoid.

What I will concede for those who would wear it, it’s a surprisingly versatile watch in its dimensions. At 40mm diameter, it’s in the sweet spot for the maximum range of wrist sizes, and at only 12mm thick it’s sleek enough to wear under a shirt cuff. I tried a number of different outfits, from vested suits to t-shirts and jeans, and was surprised at how well it worked with all of them. That’s a rare achievement.

I try very hard to avoid using the term “grail watch,” but sometimes it slips out. As I returned the Root Beer to its rightful owner — unscratched I might add — I thanked him profusely. “Well? What did you think? Did you love it?” he asked, knowingly. I confessed that I did, and that despite my efforts to remain aloof, it had worked its magic on me in swirls of brown and rose gold.

Root Beer Float

On Writing and Watches