There is a particular kind of respect you only give to something that has never let you down and never asked for your attention. This watch has earned it. Five years in, it has been rained on, dropped, scraped against door frames, and worn to bed more often than I would like to admit, and it has never once needed anything from me in return.

Some tools earn it by never becoming a task.

The Jimny works the same way in its own language. It is not fast, it is not plush, and it will happily admit both. What it is instead is willing. It starts, it drives, it climbs whatever you point it at, and then it sits in the driveway without asking for a software update. In a market where every object wants to be the center of your life, there is something reassuring about the ones that are content to simply do their job.

I own watches that do more, and a Garmin that does far more than any of them. I still reach for this one, because reaching for it costs nothing, and the things that cost nothing to use are usually the things you keep for life.